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THE 


CHRISTIAN   ORATOR; 

OR, 

A     COLLECTION     OF     SPEECHES, 

DELIVERED    ON 

PUBLIC    OCCASIONS 

BEFORE 

Religions  Benevolent  Societies* 

TO    WHICH   IS   PREiFIXEDj 

AN    ABRIDGMENT   OF 
WALKER'S  ELEMENTS  OF  ELOCUTION. 

Designed  for    the  use   of  Colleges,    Academies,  and  Schools 


BY    A    GENTLEMAN    OF    MASSACHUSETTS, 


SECOND  EDITION, 

Improved   and  enlarged. 


BALTIMORE  ! 

Published   by    CUSHING  &  JEWETT,  and  F.  LUCAS,  jr. 

Sold  also, 

By  W.  W.  Woodward,    Philadelphia  ;    S.  Wood  &  Sons,  aftd 

Dodge  &  Sayre,  New-York  ;    Seward  &  Williams,  Ulica  5 

H.  How,  NewHaven  ;  and  Lincoln  &  Edmands,  Boston* 

1818. 

Lincoln  1$  Edmands,  Printers. 


DISTRICT    OF    MASSACHUSETTS,    TO    WIT: 

District  Clerk'*  Office. 
(L.  S)  Be  it  remembered,    That  on   the   twenty-sixth   day 

of  December,    A.  D    eighteen  hundred  and  sever* 
in  the    fort)  -second   year   of  thr  independence  of  the   United 
States   of   America,  Samuel    Eiheridge,  of  the   said    Dis- 
trict, has  deposited  in  this  Office  the  title  of  I  book,  the  light 
whereof  hi   claims  as  proprietor,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit: 

M  I  lie  CM  itian  O.  ator  ;  or,  a  collection  of  speeches  delivered 
on  public  occasions  before  religious  benevolent  societies.  To 
Which  is  prefixed  an  abridgment  of  Walker's  Elements  of  Elo- 
cution. Designed  for  the  u>e  of  colleges,  academies,  and  schools. 
By  a  Gentleman  of  Massachusetts. 

In  confoi  mity  to  the  act  i  f  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
entitled,  "  Ah  ac*  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  secur- 
ing the  copies  of  mans,  charts  and  books,  to  the  authors  and 
proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mention- 
ed :  a?  d  also  to  an  act  entitled,  "An  Act  supplementary  to  an 
act,  entitled  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  se- 
curing the  copies  of  naps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and 
proprietors  of  such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned; 
and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  en- 
graving aiid  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

John  W.  Davis, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachutettt. 


PREFACE. 


We  live  in  a  remarkable  period  of  the  world ;  in 
a  period  when  revolutions  of  the  most  extensive 
and  momentous  character  are  occurring  with  a 
rapidity  altogether  without  a  parallel.  The  dark- 
ness, which  for  so  many  ages  has  covered  the 
intellectual,  political,  and  moral  prospects  of 
man,  is  vanishing  away,  and  scenes  of  unexam- 
pled brightness  are  every  where  opening  to  our 
view.  The  customs,  which  were  generated 
and  nourished  by  the  heathenism  and  infidelity 
of  former  days,  are  melting  away  before  Schools, 
and  Missionaries,  and  Bibles.  Even  war,  so 
fruitful  in  misery,  and  which  has  reigned  with- 
out control  ever  since  the  flood,  is  beginning  to 
yield  its  dominion  ;  and  in  its  room  a  spirit  of 
peace,  and  of  heavenly  benevolence,  has  gone 
forth,  to  unite  in  one  happy  family,  all  the  chil- 
dren of  Adam. 

Such  a  radical  change  in  the  feelings  of  men, 
requires,  and  will  produce,  a  corresponding 
change  in  the  institutions  of  society.  Such  a 
change  has  already  appeared  in  the  periodical 
productions  of  the  press.  The  columns  of  our 
newspapers,  which  were  formerly  employed  in 
feeding  a  murderous  spirit  of  hostility  towards 


1V  PREFACE. 

foreign  nations,  and  in  kindling  the  flame  of  dis- 
cord among  brethren  at  home,  are  now  em- 
ployed in  promoting  the  exertions,  and  pro- 
claiming the  triumphs  of  Christian  benevo- 
lence. 

It  is  worthy  of  consideration,  whether  changes 
of  this  auspicious  character  may  not  be  extend- 
ed.  Every  one,  who  has  examined  the  collec- 
tions of  speeches  in  the  Reading  books,  com- 
monly put  into  the  hands  of  children  at  our 
academies  and  common  schools,  must  have  ob- 
served, that  they  contain  many,  which  breathe 
unhallowed  feelings ;  a  spirit  of  pride  and  re- 
venge, of  ambition  and  war  ;  a  spirit  wholly 
opposed  to  the  gentleness  and  humility  of  the 
Gospel.  How  incongruous  is  this  with  the 
temper  of  these  times  !  While  the  emperors  of 
the  earth  are  laying  aside  their  laurels,  and 
leaguing  together  to  put  an  end  to  war,  the  chil- 
dren of  Christian  parents  are  taught  to  glow  in 
unholy  admiration  of  heroes  and  conquerors. 
While  thousands  are  contributing  to  diffuse  the 
precepts  of  the  Gospel  among  the  distant  heath- 
en, our  own  children  are  learning  the  maxims 
and  sentiments  of  heathen  orators  and  moralists. 

To  remedy  this  evil,  it  has  been  thought  ad- 
visable to  publish  a  collection  of  speeches  for 
the  youth  of  our  country,  more  in  harmony 
with  the  spirit  of  the  times,  and  adapted  to  en- 
list  their  feelings  and  energies  in  carrying  for- 
ward the  grand  schemes  of  benevolence,  which 


PREFACE.  V 

are  now  in  successful  operation  throughout 
the  church,  and  world.  Such  has  been  the  ob- 
ject of  the  Compiler  of  the  following  volume. 
His  situation  has  given  him  access  to  a  great 
variety  of  materials  ;  and  it  is  presumed,  that, 
in  point  of  genuine  eloquence,  many  of  the 
speeches  in  this  volume,  are  not  surpassed  by 
any  which  this  age  has  produced. 

An  abridgment  of  Walker's  Elements 
of  Elocution,  a  work  which  stands  first  in  its 
kind  in  the  estimation  of  the  public,  is,  with  ob- 
vious propriety,  prefixed  to  this  work. 

As  this  is  designed  to  be  a  reading  book  in 
common  schools,  as  well  as  to  furnish  decla- 
mations for  students  in  our  colleges  and  acad- 
emies, the  speeches  are  divided  into  sections, 
and  numbered,  for  the  convenience  both  of  in- 
structors and  scholars. 

That  the  work  may  promote  the  cause  of  re- 

I    n  and  humanity,  is  the  sincere  wish  of 

THE  COMPILE 
Im,  1,  1818, 


A* 


ADVERTISEMENT    TO    THE    SECOND    EDITION. 


The  favorable  reception  which  the  public 
have  given  to  the  first  Edition  of  this  work  has 
induced  the  Compiler  to  revise  it  with  care, 
to  alter  the  arrangement  of  the  pieces,  and  to 
give  variety  to  the   Selection  by  the  addition 
of  Poetry  and  Dialogues.      The  new  matter 
has,  of  course,  excluded  the  less   interesting 
parts  of  the  old  volume.     The  abridgment  of 
Walker's  Elements  of  Elocution,  in  the  in- 
troduction to  the  Volume,  has  been  condens- 
ed,   and    rules  for  reading  Poetry  from  the 
same  author  have  been  added. — It  is  believed 
that  the  labor  which  has  been  spent  upon  this 
Edition  will  make  the  work  more  ^worthy  of 
the  patronage  of  the  public. 
July  27,  1818, 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE,  PACE* 

Elements  of  Elocution        9 

Bible  Society  Speeches. 
Speech  of  Rev  W.  Dealtry    55      Speech  of  Charles  Grant, 


-Charles  Grant,  jr.  Esq.  59 

Rev.  VV    Dealtry,  63 

Charles  Grant,  jr.  E^q.  64 

Address  of  the  American 

Bible  Society,  66 

Speech  of  Rev  Dr.  Mason,  68 


jr.    Esq. 
The  Bible  above  all  price, 

by  Rev.  Edward  Payson, 
Speech  of  George  Griffin, 

Esq  ... 
Peter  A.  Jay,  Esq. 


72 

74 

80 
85 


Missionary  Speeches. 


The  office  of  the  christian 
Missionary,  noble  and  el- 
evated, by  Rev   R  Hall 

Christianity  and  Paganism 
contrasted,  by  Rev.  G.  T. 
Noel 

The  claims  of  \frica,  by 
John  S.  Harford,  Esq 


An  objection  to  missions  an- 
swered, bv  J   S   Harford  95 
89      Speechof  Rev  J  H.  Singer    98 

On  the  danger  of  sending 
Missionaries  to  the  heath- 
en, by  Rev.  Mr.  B'xker- 
steth  -  -         101 


91 
92 
Speeches  on   War. 

The  splendor  of  war  an  ob 


On  the  horrors  of  war,  by 

Robert  Hall,  -  103 

Peace  and  war  contrasted, 

byR    Hall  108 

Character  of  the  European 

war,  byR.  Hall  109 

Speeches  on  Infidelity 

Concise  history  of  French  The  folly  of  infidelity  by 

infidelity,  by  Dr.  Dwight  118 

Brief  account  of  Illuminism 
by  Dr.  Dwight  119 

The  punishment  of  an  Infi- 
del nation,  by  R.  Hall     122 


stacle   to   its  extinction, 

by  Rev.  T.  Chalmers,      113 

The  holy  league  115 


124 


Dr.  Dwight 
Christianity  contrasted  with 

infidelity,  by  R   Hall        125 
Influence  of  infidelity  on 

morals,  by  R.  Hall  128 

State  of  France,by  Obeirne  131 
Speeches  on  Education.  ■ 

Advantages  of  knowledge  of  the  poor  answered  by 

by  R.  Hall        -         -      134  R.  Hall    135 

Objections  to  the  education  Evils  of  ignorance,    do.       137 

Speeches   on  the  Slave   Trade. 


Speech  of  W.  Wilberfcrce, 
Esq.      .         -      -      138 


Speech  of  Mr.  Pitt 
— —  Mr.  Fox 


141 

148 


CO  NT  EN  ih. 


-ions  OCCi 


PAGE. 

On  the  first  settlers  of  New 
England,  by  J  Q^  Adams, 
Esq.  -  155 

Religion  a  security  against 
national  calamities,  by  R. 
Hall         -  -  157 

Dtitv  of  visiting  the  poor, 
by  R.  Hall  158 

On  the  danger  of  neglecting 
the  poor,       by  R-  HaW   160 

On  profane  swearing,  do.    162 

The  dignity  and  importance 
of  the  ministerial  office, 
by  R.  Hail  163 

Boldness  of  reproof,  by  Cal- 


On  intemperance,  by  Dr. 
Appleton 

Symptoms  of  national  de- 
generacy, by  R.  Hall 


165 
167 
170 


PAGC 

Humility  and  dignity  of  the 
christian,  bv  R.Hall       175 

Motives  to  secure  the  blrs- 
i  of  the  gospel,  bv  Dr. 
Dwight  17 

The  surprise  of  death,  by 

Masillon  -  "    181 

The  uncertainty  of  life,  do.  18 
The  state  of  the  Jews,  by 

J.  \V.  Cunningham  186 

Vanitv  of  worldly  good,  bv 

I)j\Dwight     "  '192 

On  duelling,  by  Dr.  Mason  194 
Extract  from  Chrysostom, 

on  Eutropius' disgrace    197 
Utility  of  Tracts  199 

Character  of  Richard  Rey- 
nolds, by  Mr.  Thorpe    "  202 
Character  of  Mrs.  Graham, 
by  Dr.  Mason  206 


Narrative  and  Biographical  Pieces, 

Charles  Vth,  emperor  of 

Germany  224 

Boerhaave  226 

Character  of  Gen.  Hamilton, 
by  Dr.  Nott  2i9 


214 
216 


Abdallah  and  Ssbat,  by 

Dr.  Buchanan 
Fatal  presumption 
Skenandoh,  the  Oneida 

chief  219 

Altamont,  by  Dr.  Ycung  221 

Poetry 


The  Pulpit,  by     Cowper  232 

Verses  by  do.      234 

Love  of  the  World  re- 
proved, do.    236 

The  Rose,  do.    238 

The  Negroes'  Com- 
plaint, do.      ib. 

The  nightingale  and  glow- 
worm, by  Cowper    240 
•  forbearance,  do.    242 


The  man  perishing  in  the 
snow  storm,  by  Thomson  244 

The  two  gardeners,  Miss 
More  248 

Gaiety,  by  Cowper  248 

To  the  memory  of  Joseph 
Browne  282 

The  Snow  Drop,  by  Mont- 
gomery 285 


True  and  false  philanthropy, 

by  Miss  More  249 
On  the  education  of 

titers*  m  do.  254 

On  carrying  religion  in- 
to common  business,  do.  261 


Dialogues. 

Danielin  the  Lion's  den,  do  266 
Dionvsius,  Pythias,  &  Da- 
mon, by  Fenelon  271 
The  children  who  would 
be  their  own  masters 
by  Berquin  274 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION, 


ABRIDGED    FROM    WALKER. 


The  grand  aim  of  the  reader,  or  speaker,  should 
be  to  express  the  sense  of  a  composition,  so  as  to 
be  understood,  and,  at  the  same  time,  give  it  all 
the  force,  beauty  and  variety,  of  which  it  is  sus- 
ceptible. 

In  order  to  attain  this,  it  becomes  necessary  for 
the  student  to  make  himself  acquainted  with  the 
doctrine  of  punctuation.  Punctuation  may  be  con- 
sidered, first,  with  regard  to  the  sense  simply ; 
secondly,  with  regard,  not  only  to  the  sense,  but 
to  variety  and  beauty,  force  and  harmony.  The 
former  may  be  styled  grammatical  punctuation,  the 
latter,  rhetorical. 

PRACTICAL    SYSTEM    OF    GRAMMATICAL    PUNCTUATION. 

RULE  1. 

A  simple  sentence,  that  is,  a  sentence  having 
but  one  subject,  or  nominative,  and  one  finite  verb, 
admits  of  no  pause ;  as,  "  True  politeness  has  its 
seat  in  the  heart.1" 


10  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

Excep.  An  adjunct,  by  which  is  meant  an  im- 
perfect phrase,  or  part  of  a  sentence,  which  makes 
no  sense  of  itself,  but  serves  to  modify  the  mean- 
ing of  the  subject  or  verb,  standing  out  of  its  nat- 
ural order,  may  be  followed  by  a  comma,  and 
sometimes  also  preceded  by  it ;  as,  "  But,  even  on 
that  occasion,  you  ought  not  to  rejoice."  "  In  the 
moments  of  eager  contention,  every  thing  is  mag- 
nified/5 

RULE  2. 

In  compound  sentences,  make  as  many  distinc- 
tions by  commas,  as  there  are  simple  sentences 
contained  in  them ;  as,  "My  hopes,  fears,  joys, 
pains,  all  centre  in  you.*" 

Observ.  1.  When  several  adjuncts  affect  the  sub- 
ject of  the  verb;  as,  "  A  good,  wise,  learned  man  is 
an  ornament,*'  &c.  ;  or  when  several  adverbs,  or  ad- 
verbial circumstances  affect  the  verb ;  as,  "  He  be- 
haved himself  modestly,  prudently,  virtuously," 
it  is  to  be  understood,  that  there  are  actually  so 
many  simple  sentences  implied,  as  there  are  ad- 
juncts, or  adverbial  circumstances. 

Obs.  2.  Many  sentences,  seemingly  simple,  are 
nevertheless  of  the  compound  kind.  Such  are 
those  sentences,  which  contain  what  is  called  the 
ablative  absolute  -y  nouns,  in  apposition ;  also  nouns 
independent,  where  an  address  is  made. 

Obs.    3.       Some    sentences    generally    supposed 
to  be    compound,   arp.    ?n    fact,    -iraple ;    a«,  "  Thr 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  1  1 

imagination  and  the  judgment  do  not  always  agree." 
In  this  case  the  words,  the  imagination  and  the 
judgment,  form  but  one  subject  of  a  simple  sen- 
tence. 

EXCEPTIONS    TO    RULE   2. 

1.  When  sentences  are  connected  by  the  com- 
pound pronoun  what,  the  comma  is  omitted ;  as, 
"This  is  what  I  wanted/5  "  He  does  what  he 
pleases,"  &c. 

2.  The  comma  is  sometimes  omitted  in  short 
comparative  sentences  ;  as,  "  What  is  sweeter  than 
honey?" 

3.  When  one  sentence  stands  as  the  object  of 
the  verb  of  another  sentence;  the  comma  may  be 
omitted ;  as,  u  I  knew  he  was  present. " 

4.  When  the  relative  pronoun  is  understood,  as, 
-•  Improve  well  the  advantages  you  possess." 

5.  Subjects,  or  adjuncts,  united  by  a  conjunc- 
tion, omit  the  comma;  as,  "A  man  never  becomes 
learned  without  studying  constantly  and  methodic- 
ally.'5 "  My  hopes  and  fears,  joys  and  sorrows, 
all  centre  in  you." 

RULE  3. 

When  a  sentence  can  be  divided  into  two  or 
more  members,  which  members  are  again  divisible 
into  members  more  simple,  the  former  are  to  be 
separated  by  a  semicolon. 

Exam.  H  But  as  this  passion  for  admiration,  when  it 
works  according  to  reason,  improyes  the  beautiful  part  of 


*~  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

our  species  in  every  thing,  that  is  laudable;  so  nothing  u 
more  destructive  to  them,  when  it  is  governed  by  vanity 
and  folly." 

RULE  4. 

When  a  sentence  is  so  far  perfectly  finished,  as 
not  to  be  connected  in  construction  with  the  fol- 
lowing sentence,  it  is  marked  with  a  period;  as, 
•'•  Quench  not  the  spirit."     "  Fear  God.'* 

RULE  5. 

When  surprise,  or  wonder,  is  expressed,  a  note 
of  admiration  is  to  be  used;  when  a  question  is 
asked,  a  note  of  interrogation ;  as,  M  How  wonder- 
ful the  change  !"  "  Is  this  the  man,  who  made  the 
nations  tremble  ?" 

PRACTICAL    SYSTEM    OF    RHETORICAL    PUNCTUATION. 

Complex  sentences  may  be  divided  into  two 
classes  ;     first,    periods ;      second,    loose    sentences. 

1.  A  period  is  an  assemblage  of  such  words,  or 
members,  as  do  not  form  sense,  independent  on 
each  other ;  or,  if  they  do,  the  former  modify  the 
latter,  or  inversely. 

It  is  of  two  kinds ;  the  direct  period,  where  the 
former  words  and  members  depend  for  sense  on  the 
latter. 

Example.  "  As  we  cannot  discern  the  shadow,  moving' 
along  the  dial-plate,  so  the  advances  we  make  in  learning- 
are  only  perceived  by  the  distance  gone  over." 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION,  13 

The  inverted  period,  where  the  first  part,  though 
it  forms  sense  without  the  latter,  is  nevertheless  mod- 
ified by  it ;  as,  "  There  are  several  arts,  which  all 
men  are  in  some  measure  masters  of,  without  being 
at  the  pains  of  learning  them." 

2.  A  loose  sentence  has  its  first  member  forming 
sense,  without  being  modified  by  the  latter  ;  as, 
"  Persons  of  good  taste  expect  to  be  pleased  at  the 
same  time  they  are  informed ;  and  think  that  the 
best  sense  always  deserves  the  best  language."  In 
which  example,  we  find  the  latter  member  adding 
something  to  the  former,  but  not  modifying  or  alter- 
ing it. 

There  are  three  principal  pauses  ;  namely,  the 
smaller  pause,  answering  to  the  comma  ;  the  great- 
er pause,  answering  to  the  semicolon  and  colon  ;  and 
the  greatest  pause,  answering  to  the  period.  The 
length  of  these  pauses  varies  with  the  length  of  a 
sentence,  or  the  length  of  its  members. 

RULE  1. 
Every  direct  period  consists  of  two  principal  con- 
structive parts,   between   which   parts  the    greater 
pause  must  be  inserted  ;  thus, 

Exampie.  "  As  we  cannot  discern  the  shadow  moving1 
along  the  dial-plate,  so  the  advances  we  make  in  knowledge 
are  only  perceivable  by  the  distance  gone  over.'* 

RULE    2. 
Every  inverted  period  consists  of  two  principal 
constructive  parts,  between  which  parts,  the  greater 
pause  must  be  inserted  ;  these  parts  divido  at  that 
B 


14  HEITTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

point,  where  the  latter  part  of  the  sentence  begins 
to  modify  the  former;  as, 

Ex.  "  Every  one  that  speaks  and  reasons  is  a  grammarian, 
and  a  logician,  though  he  may  be  utterly  unacquainted  with 
the  rules  of  grammar,   or  logick,  as  delivered  in  books  and 

systems." 

RULE  S. 
Every  loose  sentence  must  consist  of  a  period, 
either  direct  or  inverted,  and  an  additional  member 
which  does  not  modify  it  ;  and,  consequently,  this 
species  of  sentence  requires  a  pause  between  the 
principal  constructive  parts  of  the  period,  and 
between  the  period  and  the  additional  member. 

Ex.  Persons  of  good  taste  expect  to  be  pleased,  at  the 
same  time  they  are  informed  ;  and  think  that  the  best  sense 
always  deserves  the  best  language. 

Having 'thus  given  an  idea  of  the  principal  pause 
in  a  sentence,  it  will  be  necessary  to  say  something 
of  the  subordinate  pauses,  which  may  all  be  com- 
prehended under  what  is  called  the  short  pause. 

And  here  I  would  observe,  that  by  the  long  pause, 
is  not  meant  a  pause  of  any  determinate  length, 
but  the  longest  pause  in  the  sentence.  And  it  may 
pass  for  a  good  general  rule,  that  the  principal 
pause  is  longer,  or  shorter,  according  to  the  sim- 
plicity, or  complexity  of  the  sentence. 

After  a  sentence  is  divided  into  its  principal 
parts  by  the  long  pause,  these  parts,  if  complex, 
are  again  divisible  into  subordinate  parts  by  a  short 
pause  ;  and  these,  if  necessary,  are  again  divisible 
into  more  subordinate  parts  by  a  still  shorter  pause. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  1 0 

till  at  last  we  arrive  at  those  words,  which  admit 
no  pause  :  as  the  article  and  substantive  ;  the  sub- 
stantive and  adjective  in  their  natural  order,  or,  if 
unattended  by  adjuncts,  in  any  order  ;  and  the 
prepositions  and  the  words  they  govern.  These 
words  are  not  divisible  except  for  the  sake  of  em- 
phasis. 

Every  other  combination  of  words  seems  divisi- 
ble, if  occasion  require.  And  here  it  may  be  ob- 
served that  all  the  words  of  a  sentence  may  be 
distinguished  into  those  that  modify,  and  those, 
that  are  modified. .  The  words,  that  are  modifi- 
ed, are  the  nominative  and  the  verb  it  governs. 
Every  other  word  may  be  said  to  be  a  modifier  of 
these  words. 

The  modifying  words  are  also  themselves  modifi- 
ed by  other  words  ;  and  thus  the  whole  sentence 
may  be  divided  into  superior  and  subordinate 
classes  of  words  ;  each  class  being  composed  of 
words  more  united  among  themselves,  than  the 
several    classes    are  with  each    other. 

Ex.  "The  members  of  that  society  have  suffered  much 
from  the  intolerance  of  their  persecutors." 

The  noun  members,  and  the  verb  have  suffered, 
with  their  several  adjuncts,  form  the  two  prin- 
cipal classes  of  r#words  in  this  sentence  ;  and  be- 
tween these  classes  a  pause  is  more  readily  ad- 
mitted, than  between  any  other  words.  If  the  lat- 
ter class  may  be  thought  too  long  to  be  pronounced 
without  a  pause,  we  may  more  easily  place  one  at 
much,  than  between  any  other  words  ;  because, 
though  have  suffered  is  modified  by  every  one  of 
the  succeeding  words,    taken  all  together,  yet  it  is 


16  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

more  immediately  modified  by  much,  as  this  por- 
tion is  also  modified  by  from  the  intolerance  of  their 
persecutors. 

If  another  pause  were  necessary,  it  would  be 
more  easily  admitted  at  intolerance,  than  between 
any  other  words,  because  that,  together  with  the 
preceding  words,  is  modified  by  the  adjunct,  of  their 
persecutors. 

In  these  observations,  however,  it  must  be  care- 
fully understood,  that  this  multiplicity  of  shorter 
pauses  is  not  recommended  as  necessary  or  prop- 
er, but  only  as  possible,  and  to  be  admitted  occa- 
sionally. To  draw  the  line  as  much  as  possible 
between  what  is  necessary  and  unnecessary,  we 
shall  endeavour  to  bring  together  such  particular 
cases  as  demand  the  short  pause,  and  those  where 
it  cannot  be  omitted  without  hurting  either  the 
sense  or  the  delivery. 

RULE    4. 
When  a  nominative    consists  of  more   than   one 
word,  it  is  necessary  to  pause  after  it. 

RULE  5. 
Whatever  member  intervenes  between  the  nom- 
inative case  and  the  verb,  or  between  the  verb  and 
the  accusative  case,  is  of  the  nature  of  a  paren- 
thesis, and  must  be  separated  from  both  by  a  short 
pause ;  as,  "  I,  that  speak  in  righteousness,  am 
mighty  to  save."  u  A  man  of  fine  taste  in  writing 
will  discern,  after  the  same  manner,  beauties  and 
imperfections,  to  which  others  are  insensible." 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  17 

RULE  6. 
When  two  verbs  come  together,  and  the  latter 
is  in  the  infinitive  mode,  if  any  words  come  be- 
tween, they  must  be  separated  from  the  latter  verb 
by  a  pause ;  as,  M  It  is  impossible  for  a  jealous 
man,  to  be  thoroughly  cured  of  his  suspicions." 

RULE  7. 
If  there  are  several  subjects  belonging  in  the  same 
manner  to  one  verb,  or  several  verbs,  belonging  in 
the  same  manner  to  one  subject,  the  subjects  and 
verbs  are  still  to  be  accounted  equal  in  number ;  for 
every  verb  must  have  its  subject,  and  every  sub- 
ject its  verb ;  and  every  one  of  the  subjects,  or 
verbs,  should  have  its  point  of  distinction  and  a 
short  pause  ;  as,  "  Riches,  pleasure,  and  health, 
become  evils  to  those,  who  do  not  know  how  to 
use  them." 

RULE    8. 

If  there  are  several  adjectives  belonging  in  the 
same  manner  to  one  substantive,  or  several  substan- 
tives belonging  in  the  same  manner  to  one  adjective, 
the  adjective  and  substantives  are  still  to  be  ac- 
counted equal  in  number  ;  for  every  substantive 
must  have  its  adjective,  and  every  adjective  its 
substantive  ;  and  every  adjective  coming  after  its 
substantive,  and  every  adjective  coming  before  the 
substantive,  except  the  last,  must  be  separated  by 
a  short  pause. 

Ex.   A.  polite,    an    active,    and   a  supple    behaviour,  is 
necessary  to  succeed  in   life. 

B  2 


IS 


ELEMENTS    OF   ELOCUTION. 


RULE    9. 

If  there  are  several  adverbs  belonging  in  the 
same  manner  to  one  verb,  or  several  verbs  belong- 
ing in  the  same  manner  to  one  adverb,  the  verbs 
and  adverbs  are  still  to  be  accounted  equal  in  num- 
ber ;  and  if  the  adverbs  come  after  the  verb,  they 
are  each  of  them  to  be  separated  by  a  pause  ;  but 
if  the  adverbs  come  before  the  verb,  a  pause  must 
separate  each  of  them  from  the  verb  but  the  last. 

Ex.  To  love,  wisely,  rationally,  and  prudently,  is,  in  the 
opinion  of  lovers,  not  to  love  at  all. 

Wisely,  rationally,  and  prudently  to  love,  is,  in  the  opinion 
of  lovers,  not  to  love  at  all. 

RULE    10. 

Words,  put  into  the  case  absolute,  must  be  sepa- 
i^ated  from  the  rest  by  a  short  pause  ;  as,  "  If  a 
man  borrow  aught  of  his  neighbour,  and  it  be  hurt 
or  die,  the  owner  thereof  not  being  with  it,  be  shall 
surely  make  it  good." 

RULE    11. 
Nouns  in  apposition  have  a  short  pause  between 
them,    either  if  both  these  nouns  consist  of  many 
terms,  or  the  latter  only  ;  as,  M  Paul,  the  apostle  of 
the  Gentiles." 

RULE    12. 

Relative  pronouns  in  the  nominative  require  a 
short  pause  before  them  ;  as,  "  Saints,  that  taught, 
and  led  the  way  to  heaven." 


ELEMENTS    OP   ELOCUTION.  19 

RULE    13. 
When   that   is  used  as    a  casual   conjunction,    it 
ought  always  to  be  preceded  by  a  short  pause  ;  as, 
"  Forgive   me,   that   I  thus  your  patience  wrong." 

RULE  14. 
Prepositions  and  conjunctions  are  more  united 
with  the  wrords  they  precede,  than  with  those  they 
follow  ;  and,  consequently,  if  it  be  necessary  to 
pause,  they  ought  to  be  classed  with  the  succeeding 
words ;  as,  "  A  violent  passion,  for  universal  ad- 
miration, produces  the  most  ridiculous  circum- 
stances, in  the  general  behaviour  of  women,  of 
the   most  excellent  understandings.'5 

RULE  15. 
Contrasted  words,  or  parts  in  a  sentence  in  op- 
position to  each  other,  require  a  short  pause  after 
them  ;  as,  "  The  pleasures  of  the  imagination,  taken 
in  their  full  extent,  are  not  so  gross  as  those  of 
sense,  nor  so  refined  as  those  of  the  understand- 
ing*" After  gross  and  refined  ought  to  be  a  short 
pause, 


PRACTICAL    SYSTEM     OF   THE   INFLECTIONS   OF   THE   VOICE, 

By  inflection  of  the  voice  is  to  be  understood 
that  upward  or  downward  slide,  which  the  voice 
makes,  when  the  pronunciation  of  a  word  is  finish- 
ing ;  and  which  may  be  called  the  rising  and  fall- 
ing inflection, 


20  ::^ts    OF   ELOCUTION. 

For  example  ;  in  pronouncing  the  following  sen- 
tence : — Does  Caesar  deserve  fame  or  blame  ?  fame 
will  have  the  rising,  and  blame  the  falling  inllection. 
This  distinction  will  be  still  clearer,  if  the  reader 
will  let  the  word  fame  drawl  off  the  tongue  for 
some  time  before  the  sound  finishes  ;  he  will  find 
it  slide  upwards,  and  end  in  a  rising  tone  ;  if  he 
makes  the  same  experiment  on  the  word  blame,  he 
will  find  the  sound  slide  downwards,  and  end  in  a 
falling  tone. 

Every  pause,  of  whatever  kind,  must  necessa- 
rily adopt  one  of  these  two  inflections,  or  continue 
in    a    monotone. 

To  give  a  clearer  idea  of  these  inflections,  we 
hare  inserted  in  the  Plate,  diagrams  with  the  differ- 
ent  examples. 

Explanation  of  Plate. 

No.  I.     Did  he  do  it  voluntarily  or  involuntarily  ? 

In  the  pronunciation  of  these  words,  every  sylla- 
ble in  the  word  voluntarily  rises  except  the  first, 
vol;  and  every  syllable  in  the  word  involuntarily* 
falls  but  the  first,  in.  A  slow  drawling  pronuncia- 
tion of  these  words  will  evidently  show  that  this  is 
the  case.  These  different  slides  of  the  voice  are 
named  from  the  direction  #they  take  in  the  conclu- 
sion of  a  word,  as  that  is  the  most  apparent,  espec- 
ially if  there  are  several  syllables  after  the  accent- 
ed syllable,  or  if  the  word  be  but  of  one  syllable, 
and  terminate  in  a  vowel  or  a  liquid  :  for,  in  this  case, 
the  sound  lasts  seme  time  after  the  word  is  articulat- 
ed. Thus  voluntarily  may  l»e  said  to  have  the  rising, 
and  involuntarily  the  failing  inllection  }    and  we  must 

carefully 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

carefully  guard  against  mistaking  the  low  tone  at  the 
beginning  of  the  rising  inflection  for  the  falling  inflec- 
tion, and  the  high  tone  at  the  beginning  of  the  falling 
inflection,  for  the  rising  inflection,  as  they  are  not  de- 
nominated rising  or  falling  from  the  high  or  low  tone 
in  which  they  are  pronounced,  but,  from  the  upward 
or  downward  slide  in  which  they  terminate,  whether 
pronounced  in  a  high  or  a  low  key. 

In  this  scheme  every  word,  whether  accented  or 
not,  is  arranged  under  that  line  of  sound  to  which  it 
belongs  :  though  the  unaccented  words  are  generally 
pronounced  so  feebly,  as  to  render  it  often  very  dif- 
ficult to  say  whether  they  belong  to  the  rising  or 
falling  inflection  ;  but  when  the  accented  words  have 
their  proper  inflection,  the  subordinate  words  can 
scarcely  be  in  an  improper  one.  The  accented 
words,  therefore,  are  those  only  which  we  need  at 
present  attend  to. 

The  sentence  No.  I.  and  any  other  sentence  con- 
structed in  exactly  the  same  manner,  must  neces- 
sarily adopt  the  rising  inflection  on  the  first  member, 
and  the  falling  on  the  last. 

The  sentence  No.  II.  necessarily  adopts  a  contra- 
ry order  ;  that  is,  the  falling  inflection  on  voluntari- 
ly, and   the  rising   on  involuntarily. 

No.  III.  and  IV.  shew  that  the  same  words  take 
different  inflections  in  correspondence  with  the  sense 
and  structure  of  the  sentence  ;  for  as  the  word  con- 
stitution, in  No.  IV.  only  ends  a  member  of  the  sen- 
tence, and  leaves  the  sense  unfinished,  it  necessarily 
adopts  the  suspending  or  rising  inflection  ;  and  har- 
mony requires  that  the  preceding  words  should  be 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  to 

so  arranged,  as  to  give  every  one  of  the  words  an 
inflection,  different  from  what  it  has  in  No.  III.  where 
constitution  ends  the  sentence. 

But  when  we  say  a  word  is  to  have  the  rising  in- 
flection, it  is  not  meant  that  this  word  is  to  be  pro- 
nounced in  a  higher  tone  than  other  words,  but  that 
the  latter  part  of  the  word  is  to  have  a  higher  tone 
than  the  former  part  ;  the  same  may  be  observed 
of  the  falling  inflection. 

We  now  proceed  to  apply  the  doctrine  of  inflec- 
tion  to  that  of  punctuation. 

But  before  any  rules  for  applying  the  inflections 
are  laid  down,  we  would  remark  that  the  falling  in- 
flection is  divisible  into  two  kinds  of  very  different 
and  even  opposite  import.  The  falling  inflection 
without  a  fall  of  the  voice,  or,  in  other  words,  that 
inflection  of  voice  which  consists  of  a  downward 
slide,  in  a  high  and  forcible  tone,  may  either  be  ap- 
plied to  that  part  of  a  sentence  where  a  portion 
of  sense  is  formed,  as  at  the  word  unjustly,  in  the  fol- 
lowing sentence  :  "  I  know  not  whether  he  acted 
justly  or  unjustly  ;  but  he  acted  contrary  to  law  ;M  or 
to  that  part  where  no  sense  is  formed,  as  at  the 
word  temperance,  Plate  No.  IV".  ;  but  when  this  down- 
ward slide  is  pronounced  in  a  lower  and  less  forcible 
tone  than  the  preceding  words,  it  indicates  not  only 
that  the  sense,  but  the  sentence,  is  concluded. 

The  rising  inflection  is  denoted  by  the  acute  ac- 
cent, thus  ( ' ) . 

The  falling  inflection  is  denoted  by  the  grave  ac- 
cent, thus  (N). 


24  ELEMENTS  OF  ELOCUTION. 

COMPACT  SENTENCE.   DIRECT  PERIOD- 

RULE  1. 

Every  direct  period,  so  constructed  as  to  have 
its  two  principal  constructive  parts  connected  by 
correspondent  conjunctions,  requires  the  long 
pause  with  the  rising  inflection  at  the  end  of  the 
first  principal  constructive  member. 

Ex.  As  we  cannot  discern  the  shadow  moving  along  the 
dial-plate,  so  the  advances  we  make  in  knowledge  are  only 
perceivable  by  the  distance  gone  over. 

RULE    2. 

Every  direct  period,  consisting  of  two  principal 
constructive  parts,  and  having  only  the  first  part 
commence  with  a  conjunction,  requires  the  rising 
inflection  and  long  pause    at  the   end  of  this  part 

Ex.  As  in  ray  speculations  I  have  endeavoured  to  ex- 
tinguish passion  and  prejudice,  I  am  still  desirous  of  doing 
some  good  in  this  particular. 

RULE    3. 

Direct  periods,  which  commence  with  particles 
of  the  present  and  past  tense,  consist  of  two  parts ; 
between  which  must  be  inserted  the  long  pause  and 
rising  inflection. 

Ex.  Having  already  shown  how  the  fancy  is  affected  by 
the  works  of  nature,  and  afterwards  considered  in  general 
both  the  works  of  nature  and  of  art,  how  they  mutually  as- 
sist and  complete  each  other,  in  forming  such  scenes  and 
prospects  as  are  most  apt  to  delight  the  mind  of  the  behold- 
er ;  I  shall  in  this  paper  throw  together  some  reflections  on 
that  particular  art,  which  has  a  more  immediate  tendency 
than  any  other,  to  produce  those  primary  pleasures  of  the 
imagination,  which  have  hitherto  been  the  subject  of  this 
discourse. 


ELEMENTS    OF   ELOCUTION. 
INVERTED    PERIOD. 

RULE. 
Every  period,  where  the  first  part  forms  perfect 
sense  by  itself,  but  is  modified  or  determined  in  it? 
signification  by  the  latter,  has  the  rising  inflection 
and  long  pause  between  these  parts  as  in  the 
direct  period. 

Ex.  Gratian  very  often  recommends  the  fine  taste,  as  the 
utmost  perfection  of  an  accomplished  man. 

LOOSE    SENTENCE. 

RULE. 

Every  member  of  a  sentence  forming  consistent 
sense,  and  followed  by  two  other  members  which 
do  not  modify  or  restrain  its  signification,  admits 
of  the  falling  inflection. 

Ex.  For  this  reason,  there  is  nothing  more  enlivens  a. 
prospect  than  rivers,  jetteaus,  and  falls  of  water,  where  the 
scene  is  perpetually  shifting"  and  entertaining  the  sight  every 
moment  with  something  that  is  new. 

ANTITHETIC^    MEMBER. 

When  sentences  have  two  parts  corresponding 
with  each  other,  so  as  to  form  an  antithesis^  the 
first  part  must  always  terminate  with  the  rising 
inflection. 

Ex.  I  imagined  that  I  was  admitted  into  a  long  spacious 
gallery,  which  had  one  side  covered  with  pieces,  of  all  the 
famous  painters  who  are  now  living  ;  and  the  other  with  the 
greatest  masters  who  are  dead. 

The  pleasures  of  the  imagination  are  not  so  gross  as  those 
of  sense,  nor  so  refined  as  those  of  the  understanding. 
C 


26  BLEMEJT8    OF    LLOflTIOy. 

PI  M  LT1MATE    MEMBER. 

A$  the  last  member  must  almost  always  be  ter- 
ed  by  the  falling  inflection  at  the  period,  a 
falling  inflection,  immediately  preceding  it,  in  the 
penultimate  member,  would  be  too  sudden  a  repe- 
tition of  nearly  similar  sounds  ;  hence  arises  the 
propriety  of  the  following 

RULE. 

Every  member  of  a  sentence,  immediately  pre- 
ceding the  last,  requires  the  rising  inflection. 

Ex  The  florist,  the  planter,  the  gardener,  the  husband- 
man, when  they  are  accomplishments  to  the  man  of  fortune, 
are  great  reliefs  to  a  country  life,  and  many  ways  useful  to 
those  who  are  possessed  of  them. 

Exception.  Emphasis,  which  controls  every  other 
rule  in  reading,  forms  an  exception  to  this  ;  which 
is,  that  where  an  emphatick  word  is  in  the  first  mem- 
ber of  a  sentence,  and  the  last  has  no  emphatical 
word,  this  penultimate  member  then  terminates  with 
the  falling  inflection. 

Ex.  I  must  therefore  desire  the  reader  to  remember,  that 
by  the  pleasures  of  the  imagination,  I  meant  only  such  pleas- 
ures as  arise  originally  from  sight ;  and  that  I  divide  these 
pleasures  into  two  kinds. 

SERIES. 

Variety  is  necessary  in  the  delivery  of  almost 
every  separate  member  of  a  sentence,  and  much  more 
so  in  a  series  of  members. 

K othing,  however,  can  be  more  various  than  the 
pronunciation  of  a  series ;  almost  every  different 
number  of  particulars  requires   a  different    method 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 


27 


of  varying  them  :  and  even  those  of  precisely  the 
same  number  of  particulars  admit  of  a  different  mode 
of  pronunciation,  as  the  series  is  either  commencing 
or  concluding,  simple  or  compound  ;  single  or  double, 
or  treble,  &c. 

By  a  commencing  series  is  meant  that,  which  be- 
gins a  sentence,  but  does  not  conclude  it.  By  a 
concluding  series  is  meant  that,  which  ends  the  sen- 
tence, whether  it  begin  it  or  not. 

Series,  whose  members  consist  of  single  words, 
are  called  simple  series  ;  and  those,  whose  mem- 
bers consist  of  two  or  more  words,  compound 
series. 

SIMPLE    SERIES. 

RULE   1. 

When  two  members,  consisting  of  single  words, 
commence  a  sentence,  the  first  must  have  the  fall- 
ing, and  the  last  the  rising  inflection. 

Ex.    exercise  and  temperance  strengthen  the  constitution. 

RULE  2. 
When  two  members,  consisting  of  single   words, 
conclude  a  sentence,  as  the  last  must  naturally  have 
the  falling  inflection,  the  last  but  one  assumes  the 
rising  inflection. 

-Ex.  The  constitution  is  strengthened  by  exercise  and  tem- 
perance. 

This  rule  is  the  converse  of  the  former.  It 
must,  however,  be  observed,  that  sentences  of  this 
kind,  which  can  scarcely  be  called  a  series  of  par- 
ticulars, may,  when  commencing,  assume  a  differ- 
ent  order  of  inflections  on  the   first  words,  when 


2B  ilk  ur, 

Delude  the  sen- 
tence. 

LE  3. 

When    tu-rpo  i  otence,    consisting 

D  nenc- 
\   last  ar<  tronoonced  as  in 

Rule     I,    ^ a  ]    I  ;  3n,  in 

>wer  tone  than  the  second. 

Ex    Marji<actu  es,  -".culture,  naturally  em- 

ploy  mote  than  e  species  in  twenty 

A  man  ths  '  k.  painting,  or  drehitec- 

|  -   one  that   has   another   sense,  when  compared 

with  such  as  have  no  relish  of  those  arts. 

RULE    4. 

When  three  members  of  a  sentence,  consisting 
of  single  words,  succeed  each  other  in  a  concluding 
series,  the  two  last  are  to  be  pronounced  as  in  Rule 
2,  and  the  first  with  the  rising  inflection  in  a  little 
higher  tone  than  the  second. 

Ex.  A  modern  Pindarick  writer,  compared  with  Pindar, 
is  like  a  sister  among  the  Camisars  compared  with  Virgil's 
Sybil]  the  one  gives  that  divine  impulse  which  raises  the 
mind  above  itself,  and  makes  the  sounds  more  than  human, 
while  the  other  abounds  with  nothing  but  distortion,  grim- 
dce,  and  outward  figure. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  observe,  that  although 
the  series  of  four,  whether  commencing  or  conclud- 
ing, must  necessarily  have  the  first  and  last  words 
inflected  alike,  and  the  two  middle  words  inflected 
alike,  yet  that  the  series  of  three  in  a  concluding 
member  may,  wh^n  we  are  pronouncing  with  a  de- 
gree  of  solemnity,   and  wish  to  form  a  cadence  ;  in 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  29 

this  case,  I  say,  we  not  only  may.  but  must  pro- 
nounce the  first  word  with  the  falling,  the  second 
with  the"  rising,  and  the  last  with  the  failing  inflec- 
tion. 

RULE  5. 
When  four  members  of  a  sentence,  consisting  of 
single  words,  succeed  each  other  in  a  commencing 
series,  and  are  the  only  series  in  the  sentence,  they 
may  be  divided  into  two  equal  portions:  the  first 
member  of  the  first  portion  must  be  pronounced 
with  the  rising,  and  the  second  with  the  falling  in- 
flection, as  in  Rule  2  ;  and  the  two  members  of  the 
last  portion  exactly  the  reverse,  that  is,  according 
to  Rule  1. 

Ex.  Petals,  minerals,  plants,  and  meteors  contain  a  thous- 
and curious  properties,  which  are  as  engaging  to  the  fancy 
as  to  the  reason. 

RULE  6. 
When  four  members  of  a  sentence,  consisting  of 
single  words,  succeed  each  other  in  a  concluding 
series,  a  pause  may,  as  in  the  former  rule,  divide 
them  into  two  equal  portions;  but  they  are  to  be 
pronounced  with  exactly  contrary  inflections ;  that 
is,  the  two  first  must  be  pronounced  according  to 
Rule  1.  and  the  two  last  according  to  Rule  2. 

E.x.  There  is  something  very  engaging  to  the  fancy  as 
well  as  to  our  reason,  in  the  treatise  of  metals,  minerals, 
plants,  and  meteors. 

These   rules   might  be  carried  to  a  much  greater 
length;  but  too  nice  an  attention  to  them,  in  a  long 
series,  might  not  only  be  very  difficult,   but  srive   an 
C    2 


3©  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

air  of  stiffness  to  the  pronunciation,  which  would 
not  be  compensated  by  the  propriety.  It  may  be 
necessary,  however,  to  observe,  that  in  a  long 
enumeration  of  particulars,  it  would  not  be  im- 
proper to  divide  them  into  portions  of  three  ;  and 
if  we  are  not  reading  extempore,  as  it  may  be  call- 
ed, this  division  of  a  series  into  portions  of  three 
ought  to  commence  from  the  end  of  the  series  ;  that 
if  it  is  a  commencing,  we  may  pronounce  the  last 
portion  as  in  Rule  3  ;  and  if  it  is  a  concluding  se- 
ries, we  may  pronounce  the  last  portion  according 
to  the  observation  annexed  to  Rule  4. 

COMPOUND    SERIES.       GENERAL    RULE. 

Where  «fa£  compound  series  commences,  the 
falling  inflection  takes  place  on  every  member  but 
the  last  ;  and  when  the  series  concludes,  it  may 
take  place  on  every  member  except  the  last  but 
one.  It  must  be  carefully  noted,  likewise,  that  the 
second  member  ought  to  be  pronounced  a  little 
higher,  and  more  forcibly  than  the  first,  the  third 
than  «the  se£pnd,  and  so  on  ;  for  which  purpose,  if 
the  members  are  numerous,  it  is  evidently  neces- 
sary to  pronounce  the  first  member  in  so  low  a  tone 
as  to  admit  of  rising  gradually  on  the  same  inflec- 
tion to  the  last. 

EXAMPLE    OF    A    COMMENCING    COMPOUND    SERIES    OF    SIX 
MEMBERS. 

I  would  fain  ask  one  of  those  bigoted  infidels,  supposing 
all  the  great  points  of  atheism,  as  the  casual  or  eternal  for- 
mation of  the  world,  the  materiality  of  a  thinking  substance, 
the  mortality  of  the  soul,  the  fortuitous  organization  of  the 
body,  the  motions  and  gravitation  of  matter,  with  the  like 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  31 

particulars,  were  laid  together,  and  formed  into  a  kind  of 
creed,  according  to  the  opinions  of  the  most  celebrated  athe- 
ists ;  I  say,  supposing  such  a  creed  as  this  were  formed, 
and  imposed  upon  any  one  people  in  the  world,  whether  it 
would  not  require  an  infinitely  greater  measure  of  faith  than 
any  set  of  articles  which  they  so  violently  oppose. 

EXAMPLE    OF    THE   CONCLUDING    COMPOUND    SERIES. 

For  if  we  interpret  the  Spectator's  words  in  their  literal 
meaning,  we  must  suppose  that  women  of  the  first  quality 
U3ed  to  pass  away  whole  mornings  at  a  puppet-show  ;  that 
they  attested  their  principles  by  patches  ;  that  an  audience 
would  sit  out  an  evening  to  hear  a  dramatick  performance, 
written  in  a  language  which  they  did  not  understand  ;  that 
chairs  and  flower-pots  were  introduced  as  actors  on  the  Brit- 
ish stage  ;  that  a  promiscuous  assembly  of  men  and  women 
were  allowed  to  meet  at  midnight  in  masks  within  the  verge 
of  the  court,  with  many  improbabilities  of  the  like  nature* 

SERIES    OF  SERIESES.       PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATION. 

When  the  members  of  a  series,  either  from 
their  similitude  or  contrariety  to  each  other,  fall 
into  pairs  or  triplets  ;  these  pairs  ©^♦'triplets,  con- 
sidered as  whole  members,  are  pro&ounced  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  respecting  those'  members  of  a 
series  that  consist  of  more  than  a  single  word  ;  but 
the  parts  of  which  these  members  are  composed, 
if  consisting  of  single  words,  are  pronounced  ac- 
cording to  those  rules  which  relate  to  those  mem- 
bers that  consist  of  single  words,  as  far  as  their 
subordination  to  the  whole  series  of  members  will 
permit. 

Ex.  For  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor 
life  ;  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers  ;  nor  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come  ;  nor  height,  nor  depth  ;  nor  any 


FLFMFVTS    OF    FLOCFTION'. 

other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

Upon  the  first  view  of  this  passage,  we  find  it 
naturally  falls  into  certain  distinct  portions  of  simi- 
lar or  opposite  words.  These  portions  seem  to  be 
live  in  number  ;  the  first  containing  two  members, 
death,  life  ;  the  second  containing-  three  members, 
angels,  principalities,  powers  ;  the  third  two, 
things  present,  things  to  come  ;  the  fourth  two, 
height,  depth  ;  the  fifth  one,  any  other  creature  : 
these  members,  if  pronounced  at  random,  and  with- 
out relation  to  that  order  in  which  they  are  placed 
by  the  sacred  writer,  lose  half  their  beauty  and 
effect  ;  but  if  each  member  is  pronounced  with  an 
inflection  of  voice  that  corresponds  to  its  situation 
in  the  sentence,  the  whole  series  becomes  the  most 
striking  and  beautiful  climax  imaginable. 

From  the  examples  which  have  been  adduced, 
we  have  seen  in  how  many  instances  the  force,  va- 
riety and  harmony  of  a  sentence  have  been  im- 
proved by  a  proper  use  of  the  falling  inflection. 
The  series  in  particular  is  indebted  to  this  inflec- 
tion for  its  greatest  force  and  beauty.  But  it  is 
necessary  to  observe,  that  this  inflection  is  not 
equally  adapted  to  the  pronunciation  of  every  se- 
ries :  where  force,  precision,  or  distinction  is  neces- 
sary, this  inflection  very  happily  expresses  the 
sense  of  the  sentence,  and  forms  an  agreeable  cli- 
max of  sound  to  the  ear  ;  but  where  the  sense  of 
the  sentence  does  not  require  this  force,  precision, 
or  distinction,  (and  it  seldom  does  require  it,) 
where  the  sentence  commences  with  a   conditional 


BLEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  33 

or  suppositive  conjunction,  or  where  the  language 
is  plaintive  and  poetical  t*ie  failing  inflection  seems 
less  suitable  than  the  rising. 

Ex  When  the  gay  and  smiling  aspect  of  things 
has  begun  to  leave  the  passages  to  a  man's  heart  thus 
thoughtlessly  unguarded  ;  when  kind  and  caressing  looks  of 
every  object  without,  that  can  flatter  his  senses,  has  con- 
spired with  the  enemy  within,  to  betrav  him  and  put  him  off 
his  defence  ;  when  musick  likewise  hath  lent  her  aid,  and 
tried  her  power  upon  the  passions  ;  when  the  voice  of  sing- 
ing men,  and  the  voice  of  singing  women,  with  the  sound  of 
the  viol  and  the  lute,  have  broke  in  upon  his  soul,  and  in 
some  tender  notes  have  touched  the  secret  springs  of  rap- 
ture,— that  moment  let  us  dissect  and  look  into  his  heart  ;— 
see  how  vain,  how  weak,  how  6mpty  a  thing  it  is  ! 

THE    FINAL    PAUSE    OR   PERIOD. 

The  tone,  with  which  we  conclude  a  sentence, 
must  be  distinguished  as  much  as  possible  from 
that  member  of  a  sentence,  which  contains  perfect 
sense,  and  is  not  necessarily  connected  with  what 
follows.  Such  a  member  requires  the  falling  in- 
flection, but  in  a  higher  tone  than  the  preceding 
wTords  ;  as  if  we  had  finished  only  a  part  of  what 
we  had  to  say,  while  the  period  requires  the  fall- 
ing inflection  in  a  lower  tone  as  if  we  had  nothing 
more  to  add. 

But  this  final  tone  does  not  only  lower  the  last 
word  ;  it  has  the  same  influence  on  those  which 
more  immediately  precede  the  last  ;  so  that  the 
cadence  is  prepared  by  a  gradual  fall  upon  the 
concluding  words  ;  every  word  in  the  latter  part 
of  a  sentence  sliding  gently  lower  till  the  voice 
drops  upon  the  last. 


o4  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

Ex.  As  the  word  taste  arises  very  often  in  conver- 
sation, I  shall  endeavour  to  give  some  account  of  it,  and  to 
lay  down  rules  how  we  may  know  whether  we  are  possessed 
of  it,  and  how  we  may  acquire  that  fine  taste  in  writing  which 
is  so  much  talked  of  among  the  polite  world. 

We  find  perfect  sense  formed  at  the  words  ac- 
count of  i^  and  possessed  of  it  ;  but  as  they  do 
not  conclude  the  sentence,  these  words,  if  they 
adopt  the  falling  inflection,  must  be  pronounced  in 
a  higher  tone  than  the  rest  ;  while  in  the  last  mem- 
ber, not  only  the  word  world  is  pronounced  lower 
than  the  rest,  but  the  whole  member  falls  gradually 
into  the  cadence,  which  is  so  much  talked  of 
among  the  polite  world.  And  here  it  will  be  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  observe,  that  though  the 
period  generally  requires  the  falling  inflection, 
every  period  does  not  necessarily  adopt  this  inflec- 
tion in  the  same  tone  of  voice  ;  if  sentences  are 
intimately  connected  in  sense,  though  the  gram- 
matical structure  of  each  may  be  independent  on 
the  other,  they  may  not  improperly  be  considered 
as  so  many  small  sentences  making  one  large  one, 
and  thus  requiring  a  pronunciation  correspondent 
to  their  logical  dependence  on  each  other  :  hence 
it  may  be  laid  down  as  a  general  rule,  that  a  series 
of  periods  in  regular  succession  are  to  be  pro- 
nounced as  every  other  series  :  that  is,  if  they 
follow  each  other  regularly  as  parts  of  the  same 
observation,  they  are  to  be  pronounced  as  parts, 
and  not  as  wholes. 

Ex.  Thus,  although  the  whole  of  life  is  allowed  by 
every  one  to  be  short,  the  several  divisions  of  it  appear  long 
and  tedious.  We  are  for  lengthening  our  span  in  general, 
but  would  fain  contract  the  parts  of  which  it  is  composed. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  3 5 

The  usurer  would  be  very  well  satisfied  to  have  all  the  time 
annihilated,  that  lies  between  the  present  moment  and  next 
quarter-day.  The  politician  would  be  contented  to  lose 
three  years  in  his  life,  could  he  place  things  in  the  posture, 
which  he  fancies  they  will  stand  in,  after  such  a  revolution  of 
time.  The  lover  would  be  glad  to  strike  out  of  his  exist- 
ence all  the  moments  that  are  to  pass  away  before  the  happy 
meeting.  Thus  as  fast  as  our  time  runs,  we  should  be  very 
glad  in  most  part  of  our  lives,  that  it  ran  much  faster  than 
it  does. 

Though  here  are  no  less  than  six  periods  in  this 
passage,  and  every  one  of  them  requires  the  falling 
inflection,  yet  every  one  of  them  ought  to  be  pro- 
nounced in  a  somewhat  different  pitch  of  voice  from 
the  other  ;  and  for  this  purpose  they  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  concluding  series  of  compound  members; 
the  last  period  of  which  must  conclude  with  a  lower 
tone  of  voice  than  the  preceding,  that  there  may  be 
a  gradation. 

Obser.  When  a  sentence  concludes  an  antithesis, 
the  first  branch  of  which  requires  the  strong  em- 
phasis, and  therefore  demands  the  falling  inflec- 
tion ;  the  second  branch  requires  the  weak  empha- 
sis, and  rising  inflection,  although  at  the  end  of  a 
sentence. 

Ex.  If  we  have  no  regard  for  our  own  character,  we 
ought  to  have  some  regard  for  the  character  of  6thers. 

If  content  cannot  remove  the  disquietudes  of  mankind,  it 
will  at  least  alleviate  them. 

I  would  hare  your  papers  consist  also  of  all  things  which 
may  be  necessary  or  useful  to  any  part  of  society  ;  and  the 
mechanic  arts  should  have  their  place  as  well  as  the  liberal. 

INTERROGATION. 

All  questions  may  be  divided  into  two  classes, 
First;    such  as  are  formed  by  the  interrogative  pro- 


ELEMENT?    OF    ELOCUTION. 

aouns  or  adverbs;  second,  such  as  are  formed  by 
an  inversion  of  the  common  arrangement  of  the 
words.  The  first  require  at  the  end  the  falling  in- 
flection ;  the  second,  with  some  few  exceptions,  the 
rising. 

Excep.  1.  When  interrogative  sentences,  con- 
nected by  the  disjunctive  or,  succeed  each  other, 
the  first  ends  with  the  rising,  and  the  rest  with  the 
falling  inflection. 

Ex.  Shall  we  in  your  person  cr6\vn  the  author  of  the  pub- 
lick  calamities,  or  shall  we  destroy  him  ? 

Is  the  goodness,  or  wisdom  of  the  divine  Being,  more 
manifested  in  this  his  proceeding  ? 

But  should  these  credulous  infidels  after  all  be  in  the  right, 
and  this  pretended  revelation  be  all  a  fable,  from  believing 
it  what  harm  could  ensue  f  Would  it  render  princes  more 
tyrannical,  or  subjects  more  ungovernable  ? — The  rich  more 
insolent,  or  the  poor  more  dis6rderly  ?  Would  it  make 
worse  parents  or  children  ;  husbands  or  wives  ;  masters  or 
servants  ;  friends  or  neighbours  ;  or  would  it  not  make 
men  more  virtuous,  and,  consequently,  more  happy  in  every 
situation  ? 

Excep.  2.  Interrogative  sentences  without  inter- 
rogative words,  when  consisting  of  a  variety  of  mem- 
bers necessarily  depending  on  each  other  for  sense, 
admit  of  every  tone,  pause,  and  inflection  of  voice, 
common  to  other  sentences,  provided  the  last  mem- 
ber, on  which  the  whole  question  depends,  has  that 
peculiar  elevation  and  inflection  of  voice  which  dis- 
tinguishes this  species  of  interrogation. 

Ex.  But  can  we  believe  a  thinking  being,  that  is  in  a  per- 
petual progress  of  improvements,  and  travelling  on  from  per- 
fection to  perfection,  after  having  just  looked  abroad  into 
the  works  of  its  Creator,  and  made  a  few  discoveries  of  bii 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  37 

Infinite  goodness,  wisdom,    and  power,   must  perish  at  her 
first  setting  out,  and  in  the  very  beginning  of  her  inquiries  ? 

In  reading  this  passage  we  shall  find,  that  placing 
the  falling  inflection  without  dropping  the  voice 
on  the  words  improvements  and  Creator,  will  not 
only  prevent  the  monotony  which  is  apt  to  arise 
from  too  long  a  suspension  of  the  voice,  but  en- 
force the  sense  by  enumerating,  as  it  were,  the  sev- 
eral particulars  of  which  the  question  consists. 

Observation  1.  When  questions  are  succeeded  by 
answers  ,  it  will  be  necessary  to  raise  the  voice  in 
the  rising  inflection  on  the  question,  and  after  a 
considerable  pause  to  pronounce  the  answer  in  a 
lower  tone  of  voice,  that  they  may  be  the  better 
distinguished  from   each    other.  U 

Ex.  My  departure  is  objected  to  me,  which  charge 
I  cannot  answer  without  commending  myself.  For  what 
must  I  say  ?  That  I  fled  from  a  consciousness  of  guilt  ?  But 
what  is  charged  upon  me  as  a  crime,  was  so  far  from  being 
a  fault,  that  it  is  the  most  glorious  action  since  the  memory 
of  man.  That  I  feared  being  called  to  an  account  by  the 
people  ?  That  was  never  talked  of  ;  and  if  it  had  been 
done,  I  should  have  come  off  with  double  honour.  That  I 
wanted  the  support  of  good  and  honest  men  ?  That  Is  falscs 
That  I  was  afraid  of  decith  ?  That  is  calumny.  I  must, 
therefore,  say  what  I  would  not,  unless  compelled  to  it,  that 
I  withdrew  to  preserve  the  city. 

Obs.  2.  As  questions  of  this  kind,  which  demand 
the  rising  inflection  at  the  end,  especially  when  they 
are  drawn  out  to  any  length,  are  apt  to  carry  the 
voice  into  a  higher  key  than  is  either  suitable  or 
pleasant,  too  much  care  cannct  be  taken  to  keep  the 
voice  down,  when  we  ar# pronouncing  the  former 
D 


OF    ELOCV 

parts  of  a  long  question,  and  the  commencing  q 
tions  of  a  long  succession  of  questions  ;  for  as  the 
characteristic!;  pronunciation  of  these  questions  is, 
to  cnu  with  the  rising  inflection,  provided  we  do  but 
terminate  with  this,  the  voice  may  creep  on  in  a  low 
and  almost  sameness  of  tone  till  the  end  ;  and  then 
if  the  voice  is  not  agreeable  in  a  high  key,  which  is 
the  ca-c  with  the  generality  of  voices,  the  last 
word  of  the  whole  may  be  pronounced  with  the  ris- 
ing inflection,  in  nearly  the  same  low  key  in  which 
the  voice  commences. 

EXCLAMATION. 

The  note  of  exclamation  is  appropriated  by 
grammarians  to  indicate,  that  some  passion  or 
emotion  is  contained  in  the  words,  to  which  it  is 
annexed.  The  inflections  it  requires  are  exactly 
the  same  as  the  rest  of  the  points  ;  that  is,  if  the 
exclamation  point  is  placed  after  a  member  that 
would  have  the  rising  inflection  in  another  sen- 
tence, it  ought  to  ha^:e  the  rising  in  this  ;  if  after 
a  member  that  would  have  the  falling  inflection, 
the  exclamation  ought  to  have  the  falling  inflection 
likewise. 

PARENT!  I: 

RULE. 

A  parenthesis  must  be  pronounced  in  a  lower 
tone  of  voice,  and  conclude  with  the  same  pau-e 
and  inflection  which  terminate  the  member  that  im- 
mediately precedes  it. 

Ex.  Notwithstanding  all  this  care  of  Cicero,  history  in. 
forms  us,  that  Marcus  proved  a  mere  blockhead  ;  and  that 


CLEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

nature  (who  it  seems  was  even  with  the  son  wv  her  prodigal- 
ity to  the  father.)  rendered  him  incapable  of  improving,  by 
all  the  rules  of  eloquence,  the  precepts  of  y,   his 

own    endeavours,    and    the   most    re:.  ^rsation    in 

Athens. 

The  parenthesis,  terminating-  with  an  em- 
phatical  word,  which  requires  the  falling  inflec- 
tion, sometimes  forms  an  exception  to  this  rule. 

Ex.  Care  must  be  taken  that  it  be  not  (us  was  often  done 
by  our  ancestors  through  the  smaliness  of  the  treasury  and 
continuance  of  the  wars)  necessary  to  raise  taxes  ;  and  in 
order  to  prevent  this,  provision  should  be  made  against  it 
long  beforehand  :  but  if  the  necessity  of  this  service  should 
happen  to  any  state  (which  I  had  rather  suppose  of  another 
than  our  own  ;  nor  am  I  now  discoursing  of  our  own,  but 
of  even-  state  in  general)  methods  must  be  used  to  convince 
all  persons  (if  they  would  be  secure)  that  they  ought  to  sub- 
mit to  necessity. 

ACCENT. 

Rule.  When  two  words,  which  are  opposed  to 
each  other  in  sense,  have  a  sameness  in  part  of 
their  formation,  emphasis  frequently  requires  a 
transposition  of  the  accent. 

Ex.  Neither  justice  nor  injustice  have  any  thing  to  do 
with  the  present  question. 

In  this  species  of  composition,  plausibility  is  much  more 
essential  than  probability. 

EMPHASIS. 

Emphasis  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  empha- 
sis of  foice,  and  emphasis  of  sense. 

Emphasis  of  force  is  that  stress  of  voice  we  lav 
on  almost  every  significant  word.  It  is  variable, 
according  to  the  conception  and  taste  of  the  speak- 
er, and  cannot  be  reduced  to  any  certain  rule. 


40  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

Emphasis  of  sense  is  that  stress  we  lay  on  one 
or  two  particular  word-,  which  distinguishes  them 
from  all  the  rest  in  the  sentence.  This  is  deter- 
mined by  the  sense  of  the  author,  and  is  always 
fixed  and  invariable.  To  this  kind  of  emphasis, 
we  wish  to  have  the  attention  of  the  reader  prin- 
cipally directed. 

The  principal  circumstance  that  distinguishes 
emphatical  words  from  others,  seems  to  be  a  mean- 
ing which  points  out,  or  distinguishes,  something  as 
distinct  or  opposite  to  some  other  thing.  When  this 
opposition  is  expressed  in  words,  it  forms  an  an- 
tithesis, the  opposite  parts  of  which  are  always  em- 
phatical. Thus  in  the  following  couplet  from 
Pope  : 

Tis  hard  to  say,  if  greater  want  of  skill 
Appear  in  writing  or  in  judging  ill. 

The  words  writing  and  judging  are  opposed  to 
each  other,  and  are  therefore  the  emphatical 
words :  where  Ave  may  likewise  observe,  that  the 
disjunctive  or,  by  which  the  antithesis  is  connect- 
ed, means  one  of  the  things  exclusively  of  the 
other. 

Wherever  the  contrariety  or  opposition  is  ex- 
pressed, we  are  at  no  loss  for  the  emphatical  words  ; 
the  greatest  difficulty  in  reading,  lies  in  a  discov- 
ery of  those  words  which  are  in  opposition  to 
something  not  expressed,  but  understood;  and  the 
best  method  to  find  the  emphasis  in  these  sentences, 
is  to  take  the  word  we  suppose  to  be  emphatical, 
and  try  whether  it  will  admit  of  those  words  being 
supplied  which  an  emphasis  on  it  would  suggest 
Let  us  take  an  example. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION-  41 

A  man  of  a  polite  imagination  is  let  into  a  great  many  pleas- 
ures that  the  vulgar  are  not  capable  of  receiving  ;  he  can  con- 
verse with  a  picture,  and  find  an  agreeable  companion  in  a 
statue. 

We  shall  find  but  few  readers  lay  any  considerable 
stress  upon  the  word  picture,  in  this  sentence  ;  but 
we  shall  find  a  stress  upon  this  word  a  considerable 
embellishment  to  the  thought ;  for  it  hkits  to  the 
mind  that  a  polite  imagination  does  not  only  find  pleas- 
ure in  conversing  with  those  objects  which  give  pleasure 
to  all,  but  with  those  which  give  pleasure  to  such  only 
as  can  converse  with  them ;  here  then  the  emphasis 
on  the  word  picture,  is  not  only  an  advantage  to  the 
thought,  but  in  some  measure  necessary  to  it. 

But  if  emphasis  does  not  improvTe,  it  always  vitiates        * 
the  sense  ;    and,  therefore,  should  be  always  avoided 
where  the  use  of  it  is  not  evident. 

From  these  observations,  the  following  definition 
of  emphasis  seems  naturally  to  arise  :  Emphasis,  when 
applied  to  particular  words,  is  that  stress  we  lay  on 
words  which  are  in  contradistinction  to  other  words  ei- 
ther expressed  or  understood.  And  hence  will  follow 
this  general  rule  :  Wherever  there  is  contradistinction 
in  the  sense  of  the  words,  there  ought  to  be  emphasis  in 
the  pronunciation  of  them  ;  the  converse  of  this  being 
equally  true,  Wherever  we  place  emphasis,  we  suggest  # 
the  idea  of  contradistinction. 

THEORY    OF    EMPHATIC    INFLECTION. 

It  will  now  be  necessary  to  show  that  every  em- 
phatick   word,   properly   so   called,  is  as  much  dis- 
tinguished by  the  inflection  it  adopts,  as  by  the  force 
with  which  it  is  pronounced, 
D  2 


42  BtCICEim   01    i.LuariON. 

Emphasis  is  divisible  into  two  kinds,  namely,  in- 
to   that   where   the   antithesis    is    expressed,    and 

that  where  it  is  only  implied  ;  or.  in  other  woi 
into  that  emphasis  where  there  are  two  or  more 
emphatick  words  corresponding  to  each  other  ;  and 
that  where  the  emphatick  word  relates  to  some 
other  word,  not  expressed  but  understood  ;  an  in- 
stance of  the  first  is  this  : 

"When  a  Persian  soldier  was  reviling-  Alexander  the  Great, 
his  officer  reprimanded  him  by  saving1,  Sir,  you  were  paid  to 
fight  against  Alexander,  and  not  to  rail  at  him. 

Here  we  find  fight  and  rail  are  the  two  em- 
phatick words  which  correspond  to  each  other,  and 
that  the  positive  msmber,  which  affirms  something, 
adopts  the  falling  inflection  on  fight,  and  the  nega- 
tive member,  which  excludes  something,  has  the 
rising  inflection  on  rail. 

An  instance  of  the  latter  kind  of  emphasis  is 
this  : 

By  the  faculty  of  a  lively  and  picturesque  imagination,  a 
man  in  a  dungeon  is  capable  of  entertaining  himself  with 
scenes  and  landscapes,  more  beautiful  than  any  that  can  be 
found  in  the  whole  compass  of  nature. 

Here  we  find  the  word  dungeon  emphatical,  but 
it  has  not  any  correspondent  word  as  in  the  other 
\  sentence.  If  we  pronounce  this  emphatick  word 
with  the  falling  inflection,  the  correspondent  words 
which  belong  to  this  emphasis  may  be  imagined  to 
be  nearly  these,  not  merely  absent  from  beautiful 
scenes  ;  which,  if  added  to  the  word  dungeon,  we 
should  find  perfectly  agreeable  to  the  sense  sug- 
gested by  the  emphasis  on  that  word  ;  if  we  draw 
out  this  latter  sentence  at  length,  we  shall  find  it 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  43 

consist  of  the  same  positive  and  negative  parts  as 
the  former,  and  that  the  positive  part  assumes  the 
falling,  and  the  negative  the  rising  inflection  in 
both. 

Ex.  When  a  Persian  soldier  was  reviling  Alexander  the 
Great,  his  officer  reprimanded  bin:  by  saying.  Sir,  you  v.  ere 
paid  to  fight  against  Alexander,  and  not  to  rail  at  him. 

By  the  faculty  of  a  lively  and  picturesque  imagination,  a 
man  in  a  dungeon,  and  not  merely  absent  from  beautiful  scenes, 
is  capable  of  entertaining  himself  with  scenes  and  landscapes, 
more  beautiful  than  any  that  can  be  found  in  the  whole  com- 
pass of  nature. 

Here  then  we  are  advanced  one  step  towards  a 
knowledge  of  what  inflection  of  voice  we  ought  to 
use  on  one  kind  of  emphasis  ;  for  whenever  the 
emphatick  word  points  out  a  particular  sense  in 
exclusion  of  some  other  sense,  this  emphatical  word 
adopts  the  falling  inflection  :  the  word  fight,  there- 
fore, in  the  first,  and  dungeon  in  the  last  example, 
must  necessarily  be  pronounced  with  the  falling  in- 
flection, as  they  tacitly  exclude  rail,  and  mere  ab- 
sence from  beautiful  scenes,  which  are  in  contradis- 
tinction to  them. 

Having  thus  discovered  the  specifick  import  of 
one  emphatick  inflection,  it  will  not  be  very  diffi- 
cult to  trace  out  the  other  :  for  as  the  import  of 
these  two  inflections  may  be  presumed  to  be  differ- 
ent, we  may,  by  analogy,  be  led  to  conclude,  that 
as  the  emphatick  word  which  excludes  something 
in  contradistinction  to  it,  demands  the  falling  in- 
flection, the  emphasis  with  the  rising  inflection 
is  to  be  placed  on  those  words,  which,  though  in 
contradistinction    to     something    else,     do     not    abso- 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

lutely  exclude  its  existence.  Let  us  try  this  bj 
an  example.  Lothario,  in  the  Fair  Penitent,  ex- 
pn  ssing  Lis  contempt  for  the  opposition  of  Hora- 
tio, says, 

By  the  joys 
Which  yet  my  soul  has  uncontroii'd  pursu'd, 
I  would  not  turn  aside  from  my  least  pi  asure, 
Though  all  th/  force  were  arm'd  to  bar  my  way. 

The  word  thy,  in  this  passage,  has  the  emphasis 
with  the  rising  inflection  ;  which  intimates,  that 
however  Lothario  might  be  restrained  by  the  force 
of  others,  Horatio's  force,  at  least,  was  too  insig- 
nificant to  control  him  :  and  as  a  farther  proof  that 
this  is  the  sense  suggested  by  the  rising  inflection 
on  the  word  thy,  if  we  do  but  alter  the  inflection 
upon  this  word,  by  giving  it  the  emphasis  with  the 
falling  inflection,  we  shall  find,  that,  instead  of  con- 
tempt and  sneer,  a  compliment  will  be  paid  to 
Horatio  ;  for  it  would  imply  as  much  as  if  Lotha- 
rio had  said,  /  would  not  turn  aside  from  my  least 
pleasure,  not  only  though  common  force,  but 
even  though  thy  force,  great  as  it  is,  were  armed 
to  bar  my  way  :  and  that  this  cannot  be  the 
sense  of  the  passage,  is  evident. 

Here  then  we  seem  arrived  at  the  true  principle 
of  distinction  in  emphasis.  All  emphasis  has  an 
antithesis  either  expressed  or  understood  ;  if  the 
emphasis  excludes  the  antithesis,  the  emphatick 
word  has  the  falling  inflection  ;  if  the  emphasis 
does  not  ■  exclude  the  antithesis,  the  emphatick 
word  has  the  rising  inflection.  The  grand  dis- 
tinction,    therefore,   between   the   two   emphatick 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  45 

inflections  is  this  ;  the  falling  inflection  affirms  some- 
thing in  the  emphasis,  and  denies  what  is  opposed  to  it 
in  the  antithesis,  while  the  emphasis  with  the  rising  in- 
fieciion  affirms  something  in  the  emphasis,  without  deny- 
ing what  is  opposed  to  it  in  the  antithesis  :  the  former, 
therefore,  from  its  affirming  and  denying  absolutely, 
may  be  called  the  strong  emphasis  ;  and  the  latter, 
from  its  affirming  only,  and  not  denying,  may  be  call- 
ed the  weak  emphasis. 

PRACTICAL    SYSTEM    OF    EMPHASIS. 

Hitherto  we  have  treated  chiefly  of  that  empha- 
sis, which  may  be  called  single  ;  that  is,  either 
where  the  two  emphatick  words  in  antithesis  with 
each  other  are  expressed  ;  or  where  but  one  of 
them  is  expressed,  and  the  antithesis  to  it  is  im- 
plied or  understood.  But  besides  these,  there  are 
instances  where  two  emphatick  words  are  opposed 
to  two  others,  and  sometimes  where  three  emphat- 
ick words  are  opposed  to  three  others  in  the  same 
sentence.  Let  us  take  a  view  of  each  these  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  emphasis  in  its  order  : 

C  Exercise  and  temperance  strengthen  even  an  indifferent 
constitution. 


■I 

3     $Yoau 

I      rail 

i  The  pleasures  of  the  ima 
£      of  sense,  nor  so  refine 


ere  paid  to  fight  against  Alexander,  and  not  to 
at  him. 


pagination  are  not  so  gross  as  those 
refined  as  those  of  the  understanding. 

i  He  raised  a  mortal  to  the  skies. 
4.    \ 

I  She  drew  an  angel  dbvm. 

In  the  first  example,  we  find  the  emphatick  word 
indifferent  suggest  an  antithesis  not  expressed,  namely, 


46  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

not  a  good  constitution  ;  this  may  be  called  the  single 
emphasis  implied. 

In  the  second  example,  the  words  fight  and  rail  are 
in  antithesis  with  each  other,  and  do  not  suggest 
any  other  antithetick  objects  ;  and  this  may  be  call- 
ed the  single  emphasis  expressed. 

In   the  next   example,  the   emphatick  words  gross 
and  refined  are  opposed  to  each  other,  and  cont: 
with  sense  and  understanding  ;  and  this  mutual  corres- 
pondence and  opposition  of  four  parts  to  each  other 
may  not  improperly  be  termed  the  double  emphasis. 

When  three  antithetick  objects  are  opposed  to 
three,  as  in  No.  4,  we  may  call  the  assemblage 
the  treble  emphasis. 

SINGLE    EMPHASIS. 

RULE. 

Whenever  a  sentence  is  composed  of  a  positive  and 
negative  part)  if  this  positive  and  negative  imports  that 
something  is  affirmed  of  o?ic  of  the  things  which  is  de- 
nied of  the  other,  the  positive  must  have  the  falling  and 
the  negative  the  rising  inflection. 

Double  and  treble  emphasis  are  most  frequently 
regulated  by  the  harmony  of  a  sentence. 

EXAMPLE    OF    THE    DOUBLE    EMPHASIS. 

The  pleasures  of  the  imagination,  taken  in  their  full  ex- 
tent, are  not  so  gross  as  those  of  sense,  nor  so  refined  as  those 
of  the  understanding. 

In  this  example,  the  ear  perceives  the  necessity 
of  adopting  the  rising  inflection  on  the  word  sense  ; 
and,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  lays  the  falling  inflec- 
tion   on   gross)    and.  by  the  same  anticipation,  per- 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  47 

ceiving  the  period  must  have  the  falling  inflection 
on  imagination,  adopts  the  rising  inflection  on  refined; 
by  these  means,  the  greatest  variety  is  obtained,  and 
the  sense  inviolably  preserved. 

EXAMPLE    OF    TREBLE    EMPHASIS, 
She   in  her  girls  again  is  courted  ; 
ly  go  a  wooing  with  my  boys  : 
Every    emphatical    word    adopts    that    inflection 
which  the  harmony  of  the  verse  would  necessarily 
require,   if  there  were   not  an  emphatical  word  in 
the  whole  couplet. 

RULES    FOR    READING    VERSE. 

General  Observations, 

1.  Wherever  a  sentence,  or  member  of  a  sen- 
tence, would  necessarily  require  the  falling  inflec- 
tion in  prose,  it  ought  always  to  have  the  same  in- 
flection in  poetry. 

Ex.  The  dawn  is  overcast,  the  morning  low'rs, 
And  heavily  in  clouds  brings  on  the  day  ; 
The  great,  the  important  day, 
Big  with  the  fate  of  Cato  and  of  Rome. 

The  word  Rome  should  have  the  falling  inflection  : 
On  the  contrary,  if  the  word  Rome  has  the  rising  in- 
flection, the  whole  will  have  a  disagreeable  whining 
tone. 

2.  Wherever,  in  prose,  the  member  or  sentence 
would  necessarily  require  the  rising  inflection,  this  in- 
flection must  necessarily  be  adopted  in  verse. 

RULE    1. 
As    the    exact  tone    of    the    passion,  or  emotion, 
which  verse  excites,  is  not  at  first  easy  to  hit,  it  will 


4S  ELEMENTS   OF    ELOCUTION. 

be  proper  always  to  begin  a  poem  in  a  simple  and 
almost  prosaick  style,  and  so  proceed  till  we  are 
warmed  with  the  subject,  and  feel  the  emotion  we 
wish  to  express. 

RULE    2. 
In  verse  every  syllable  is  to  have  the  same  accent, 
and  every  word  the  same  emphasis,  as  in  prose. 

Ex.         Their  praise  is  still  the  style  is  excellent  : 
The  sense  they  humbly  take  upon  content. 

A  stress  upon  the  last  syllable  of  the  word  excellent 
must  be  avoided. 

Exception.  When  the  ear  would  be  disgusted  with 
the  harshness  of  the  verse,  if  the  right  accent  were 
preserved.         Thus  : 

The  swiftness  of  those  circles  attribute, 
Though  numberless,  to  his  Omnipotence. 

The  first  syllable  of  attribute  should  be  accented. 

RULE  3. 
The  vowel  e,  which  is  often  cut  off  by  an  apostro- 
phe in  the  word  the,  and  in  syllables  before  r,  as 
dangerous,  generous.  &x.  ought  to  be  preserved  in  the 
pronunciation,  because  the  syllable  it  forms  is  so 
short  as  to  admit  of  being  sounded  with  the  preced- 
ing syllable,  so  as  not  to  increase  the  number  of  syl- 
lables to  the  ear,  or  at  all  hurt  the  harmony. 

RULE  4. 
Almost  every  verse  admits  of  a  pause  in  or  near 
the  middle  of  the  line,  which  is  called  the  caesura  ; 
this  must  be  carefully  observed  in  reading  verse,  or 
much  of  the  distinctness,  and  almost  all  the  harmony 
will  be  lost. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  49 

Ex.     Nature  to  all  things  fix'd  the  limits  fit,  ' 

And  wisely  curb'd  proud  man's  pretending  wit ; 
As  on  the  land,  while  here  the  ocean  gains, 
In  other  parts  it  leaves  wide  sandy  plains  ; 
Thus  in  the  soul,  while  memory  prevails, 
The  solid  pow'r  of  understanding  fails  ; 
Where  beams  of  warm  imagination  play 
The  memory's  soft  figures  melt  away. 

These  lines  have  seldom  any  points  inserted  in  the 
middle,  even  by  the  most  scrupulous  punctuists  ; 
and  yet  nothing  can  be  more  palnable  to  the  ear, 
than  that  a  pause  in  the  first  at  tnmgs,  in  the  se- 
cond at  curb'd,  in  the  third  at  land,  in  the  fourth 
at  parts,  and  in  the  fifth  at  soul,  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  the  harmony  of  these  lines  ;  arid  that  the 
sixth,  by  admitting  no  pause  but  at  understanding, 
and  the  seventh  none  but  at  imagination,  border 
very  nearly  upon  prose. 

RULE    5. 
At  the   end    of  every    line  in  poetry  there  must 
be   a  pause  proportioned    to  the  intimate  or  remote 
connection  subsisting  between  the  two  lines. 

RULE    6, 
In  order  to  form  a  cadence  in  a  period  in  rhyming 
verse,  we  must  adopt  the  falling  inflection  with  con- 
siderable force,  in  the  caesura  of  the  last  line  but  one. 

Ex.     One  science  only  will  one  genius  fit, 
So  vast  is  art,  so  narrow  human  wit  ; 
Not  only  bounded  to  pec  diar  arts, 
But  oft  in  those  confin'd  to  single  parts  ; 
Like  kings  we  lose  the  conquests  gain'd  before, 
By  vain  ambition  still  to  make  them  more  ; 
E 


Ll.hMENTS    OF    FXOCLTIO*. 

Kach  might  his  sev'ral  province  [|  well  command, 
Would  all  but  stoop  to  what  they  understand. 

In  repeating  these  lines,  we  shall  find  it  necessary 
to  form  the  cadence,  by  giving  the  falling  inflection 
with  a  little  more  force  than  common  to  the  word 
province. 

RULE  7. 

A  simile  in  poetry  ought  always  to  be  read  in  a 
lower  tone  of  voice  than  that  part  of  the  passage 
which  precedes  fc. 

Ex.  'Twas  then  great  Marlb'rough's  mighty  soul  was  prov'd, 
That  in  the  shock  of  charging  hosts  unmov'd, 
Amidst  confusion,  horrour,  and  despair, 
Examin'd  all  the  dreadful  scenes  of  war. 
In  peaceful  thought  the  field  of  death  survey'd, 
To  fainting  squadrons  sent  the  timely  aid  ; 
Inspired  repuls'd  battalions  to  engage, 
And  taught  the  doubtful  battle  where  to  rage. 
So  when  an  angel,  by  divine  command 
With  rising  tempests  shakes  a  guilty  land, 
(Such  as  of  late  o'er  pale  Britannia  past,) 
Calm  and  serene  he  drives  the  furious  blast  j 
And,  pleas'd  th'  Almighty's  orders  to  perform, 
Rides  on  the  whirlwind,  and  directs  the  storm. 

RULE   8. 

Where  there  is  no  pause  in  the  sense  at  the  end 
of  the  verse,  the  last  word  must  have  exactly  the 
same  inflection  it  would  have  in  prose. 

Ex.         O'er  their  heads  a  crystal  firmament, 
Whereon  a  sapphire  throne,  inlaid  with  pure 
Amber,  and  colours  of  the  show'ry  arch. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCVTIO.N.  5i 

In  this  example,  the  word  pure  must  have  the  fall- 
ing inflection,  whether  we  make  any  pause  at  it  or 
not,  as  this  is  the  inflection  the  word  would  have, 
if  the  sentence  were  pronounced  prosaically.  For 
the  same  reason  the  words  retired  and  went,  in  the 
following  example,  must  be  pronounced  with  the 
rising  inflection. 

At  his  command  th'  uprooted  hills  retir'd 
Each  to  his  place  ;    they  heard  his  voice  and  went 
Obsequious  ;    heav'n  his  wonted  face  renew' d, 
And  with  fresh  flow'rets  hill  and  valley  smil'd. 

RULE  9. 
Sublime,  grand,  and  magnificent  description  in  po- 
etry, frequently  requires  a  lower  tone  of  voice,  and  a 
sameness  nearly  approaching  to  a  monotone,  to  give 
it  variety. 

Ex.     Hence  !    loath'd  Melancholy, 

Of  Cerberus  and  blackest  Midnight  born, 
In  Stygian  cave  forlorn, 

'Mongst  horrid  shapes  and  shrieks,  and  sights  unholy. 
Find  out  some  uncouth  cell, 

Where  brooding  darkness  spreads  his  jealous  wings, 
And  the  night  raven  sings  ; 

There,  under  ebon  shades  and  low-brow'd  rocks, 
As  ragged  as  thy  locks, 

In  dark  Cimmerian  desert  ever  dwell. 

In  repeating  this  passage,  we  shall  find  the  dark- 
ness and  horror  of  the  cell  wonderfully  augmented 
by  pronouncing  the  eighth  line, 

"  There,  under  ebon  shades,  and  low-brow'd  rocks," 
in  a  low  monotone. 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 


ADDITIONAL    RULES    RESPECTING    ELOCUTION. 

1.  Let  your  articulation  be  distinct  and  deliberate 

2.  Let  your  pronunciation  be  bold  and  forcible. 

3.  Acquire  a  compass  and  variety  in  tbe  height 
of  your  voice. 

4.  Pronounce  your  words  with  propriety  and  el- 
egance. 

5.  Pronounce  every  word  consisting  of  more  than 
one  syllable  with  its  proper  accent. 

6.  In  every  sentence  distinguish  the  more  sig- 
nificant words,  by  a  natural,  forcible,  and  varied  em- 
phasis. 

7.  Acquire  a  just  variety  of  pause  and  cadence. 

8.  Accompany  the  emotions  and  passions  which 
your  words  express,  by  correspondent  tones,  looks 
and  gebtures. 

In  the  application  of  these  rules  to  practice,  in 
order  to  acquire  a  just  and  graceful  elocution,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  go  through  a  regular  course  of 
exercises  ;  beginning  with  such  as  are  most  easy, 
and  proceeding  by  slow  steps  to  such  as  are  most 
difficult.  In  the  choice  of  these,  the  practitioner 
should  pay  particular  attention  to  his  prevailing 
defects,  whether  they  regard  articulation,  command 
of  voice,  emphasis  or  cadence  :  and  he  should  con- 
tent himself  with  reading  and  speaking  with  an 
immediate  view  to  the  correcting  of  his  fundamental 
faults,  before  he  aims  at  any  thing  higher.  This 
I  may  be  irksome  and  disagreeable  ;    it  may  require 


ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION.  5  a 

much  patience  and  resolution ;  but  it  is  the  only  way 
to  succeed  ;  for  if  a  man  cannot  read  simple  sen- 
tences, or  pjain  narrative,  or  didactic  pieces,  with 
distinct  articulation,  just  emphasis,  and  proper  tones, 
how  can  he  expect  to  do  justice  to  the  sublime  de- 
scriptions of  poetr}',  or  the  animated  language  of  the 
passions  ? 

In  performing  these  exercises,  the  learner  should 
daily  read  aloud  by  himself,  and  as  often  as  he  has 
an  opportunity,  under  the  direction  of  an  instructor 
or  friend.  He  should  also  frequently  recite  com- 
positions memoriter.  This  method  has  several  ad- 
vantages :  it  obliges  the  speaker  to  dwell  upon  the 
ideas  which  he  is  to  express,  and  hereby  enables  him 
to  discern  their  particular  meaning  and  force,  and 
gives  him  a  previous  knowledge  of  the  several  in- 
flections, emphasis,  and  tones  which  the  words  re- 
quire. And  by  taking  his  eyes  from  the  book,  it  in 
part  relieves  him  from  the  influence  of  the  school- 
boy habit  of  reading  in  a  different  key  and  tone  from 
that  of  conversation  ;  and  gives  him  greater  liberty 
to  attempt  the  expression  of  the  countenance  and 
gesture. 

It  were  much  to  be  wished,  that  all  public  speak- 
ers would  deliver  their  thoughts  and  sentiments, 
either  from*  memory  or  immediate  conception  :  for, 
besides  that  there  is  an  artificial  uniformity  which 
almost  always  distinguishes  reading  from  speaking, 
the  fixed  posture,  and  the  bending  of  the  head, 
which  reading  requires,  are  inconsistent  with  the 
freedom,   ease,  and  variety  of  just  elocution.     But 

E  2 


54  ELEMENTS    OF    ELOCUTION. 

if  this  is  too  much  to  be  expected,  especially  from 
preachers,  who  have  so  much  to  compose,  and  are 
so  often  called  upon  to  speak  in  public  ;  it  is 
however  extremely  desirable,  that  they  should 
make  themselves  so  well  acquainted  with  their 
discourse  as  to  be  able  with  a  single  glance  of  the 
eye,  to  take  in  several  clauses,  or  the  whole  of  a 
sentence. 


THE 


CHRISTIAN  ORATOR. 


Bible  Society  Speeches. 


EXTRACTS    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    REV.    W.    DEALTRY. 

Delivered  before  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,    at 
their  annual  Meeting  in  1813. 


1.  IN  contemplating  the  labours  of  this  Institution, 
the  noblest,  in  my  opinion,  that  ever  presented  itself 
to  the  admiration  of  any  age  or  country,  I  would  en- 
deavour to  forget  that  any  difference  of  feeling  has  ex- 
isted on  the  subject. 

2.  Every  man  who  wishes  to  ascertain  the  charac- 
ter of  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  knows 
where  to  find  it.  He  will  seek  it  in  the  hearts  and 
dwellings  of  the  poor.  He  will  look  for  it  among  the 
thousands  of  our  countrymen,  who  have  received  its 
bounty,  and  are  praying  for  its  success. 

3.  He  will  visit  the  banks  of  the  Neva  and  the 
Ganges:  he  will  carry  his  mind  both  to  the  East- 
ern and  the  Western  world  :  and  if  the  outgoings  of 


56  THE      CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 

the  morning  and  the  evening  should  be  heard  to 
unite  in  praise  1  h o  will  turn  to  this  messinger  of 
Heaven,  and  bless  the  Power  that  sent  her  from 
our  shores. 

4.  He  will  lift  up  his  eyes,  and  look  forward  to 
the  nations  which  are  yet  to  come  :  he  will  there 
behold  this  great  river  of  muniticence  rolling  it>  ma- 
jestic tide  among  the  habitations  of  future  days,  and 
distributing  in  many  channels  its  salutary  streams. 

5.  As  a  patriot,  he  will  probably  recollect  with 
pleasure  that  the  source  of  this  mighty  flood  is  in  the 
bosom  of  his  native  land  ;  that,  great  as  this  impire  is 
in  commerce  and  the  arts,  it  is  not  less  distinguished 
by  that  heaven-descended  charity,  which,  while  it 
walks  upon  the  earth,  has  its  head  in  the  skies  -.'which 
looks  upon  man,  not  as  a  creature  of  political  expe- 
diency, a  thing  to  be  tutored  and  instructed  just  so  far 
as  may  suit  the  sordid  schemes  of  a  degrading  poli- 
cy ;  but  as  a  being,  endowed  with  an  immortal  spirit, 
the  breath  of  an  eternal  nature  ;  as  capable  of  rising 
to  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  and  of  dwel- 
ino*  forever  in  the  unveiled  and  unclouded  presence 

c 

of  ineffable  Perfection. 

6.  I  believe,  Sir,  that  the  knowledge  of  God  will 
one  day  be  universal;  and  it  is  to  accelerate  that 
period,  that  I  have  attached  myself  to  this  sacred 
cause.  Our  wish  is  to  do  good  upon  the  largest 
scale  :  to  clear  away  the  wreck  of  many  generations  : 
to  heal  the  wounds  that  have  b^en  bleeding  for 
nearly  6000  years  ;  to  raise  to  the  dignity  of  his  con- 
dition every  creature  that  bears  the  name  of  man. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  57 

LXTRACTS    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    JAMES    STEPHEN,  ESQ.  M.  P. 

Delivered  at  the   formation  of  the  Bloomsbury  and  South 
Pancras  Auxiliary  Bible  Society  in  England,  Feb.  1813. 

1.  The  Bible  Society  has  a  design  vast  and  com- 
prehensive as  any  that  can  fill  the  mind  of  man ;  to 
convey  the  word  of  God  to  every  climate,  to  every 
region  of  the  habitable  globe,  and  to  translate  it  into 
every  language  of  mankind ;  to  renew  in  a  manner 
the  miracle  of  Pentecost,  by  enabling  the  inhabitants 
of  every  nation  of  the  earth  to  say  with  amazement, 
"  We  do  every  one  hear  in  our  own  tongues  the 
wonderful  works  of  God." 

2.  But  if  there  be  not  so  much  of  grandeur  in  our 
limited  object,  there  is  within  its  range  as  much 
utility. 

3.  And  here,  sir,  permit  me  to  notice  one  of  the 
many  blessings  conferred  on  our  poor  countrymen 
by  the  possession  of  the  Bible,  when  they  have  the 
power  and  inclination  to  read  it.  The  poor  man 
finds  in  those  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge 
which  it  contains,  maxims  to  guide  his  judgment,  and 
regulate  his  conduct  even  in  the  affairs  of  the  pres- 
ent life  :  his  conceptions  are  enlarged  ;  his  reasoning 
powers  are  exercised  ;  his  taste  is  raised  far  beyond 
the  ordinary  standard  of  uneducated  minds,  by  fa- 
miliarity with  those  beauties  of  composition  with 
which  the  sacred  volume  abounds.  In  short,  he  be- 
comes a  being  of  a  superior  intellectual  order  to  that 
to  which  he  belonged  before  he  was  a  reader  of  the 
Scriptures, 

4.  But  these  are  advantages  of  small  account, 
when    compared  with     the    temporal  comforts  and 


58  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

benefit  which  the  Bible  confers  on  our  poor  neigh- 
bours in  tfio  various  distresses  to  which  they  are  sub- 
ject.    Let  u^  so'ect  a  single  instance. 

5.  Let  us  suppose  the  common  case  of  a  poor  widow 
just  deprived  by  death  of  that  husband,  the  beloved 
companion  of  her  youth,  by  whose  manual  labour  she 
and  her  children  were  supported.  Instead  of  being 
soothed  and  consoled,  as  the  opulent  usually  are  in 
such  sorrows,  bv  all  those  means  which  the  sympathy 
of  friendship  may  devise,  by  change  of  scene,  and  by 
various  other  expedients,  to  divert  her  attention  from 
her  loss  till  the  shock  is  broken,  she  is  left  to  feel  at 
once  all  the  bitterness  of  her  altered  situation. 

6.  Her  maternal  feelings  are  assailed  by  the  present 
sufferings,  as  well  as  the  sad  prospects  of  her  offspring. 
The  hand  that  supported  them  is  gone,  and,  instead  of 
that  plentiful  though  humble  provision  which  his 
labour  afforded,  the  scanty  pittance  of  a  parish  allow- 
ance is  their  sole  refuge  from  immediate  want. 

7.  In  cases  like  this,  sir,  abounding  as  they  do  a- 
round  us,  what  effectual  relief  can  the  hand  of  chari- 
ty in  general  supply  ?  But  let  us  suppose  this  unfor- 
tunate widow  possessed  of  the  Bible,  and  accustom- 
ed to  resort  to  the  inexhaustible  Fountain  of  consola- 
tion which  it  supplies,  and  she  will  find  comfort  of 
the  most  effectual  kind. 

8.  There  she  may  read,  "  Commit  to  me  thy  fath- 
erless children.  I  am  the  Father  of  the  fatherless, 
and  the  God  of  the  widow."  There  her  maternal 
apprehensions  may  be  quieted  by  the  declaration,  "  I 
have  been  young,  and  now  am  old,  yet  I  never  saw 
the  righteous  forsaken,  or  his  seed  begging  bread ,n 


THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  59 

SPEECH    OF    CHARLES    GRANT,    JK.      ESQ.    M.  P. 

Delivered  on  the  same  occasion  with  the  preceding  Speech, 
part  r. 

1.  I  come  forward,  sir,  not  with  the  presumptuous 
attempt  to  enforce  upon  those  before  whom  I  stand 
the  duty  of  supporting  this  object — not  to  kindle  the 
cold  heart,  or  rouse  the  sluggish  spirit — but  to  join 
the  general  acclamation,  and  sympathize  with  the 
general  feeling.  I  come,  not  to  watch  the  first  ef- 
forts of  this  cause — not  to  cheer  its  early  struggles 
with  the  voice  of  hope  and  promises  of  conquest,  but 
to  hail  its  risen  splendour  and  matured  energies  : 
not  to  prepare  the  way  for  its  armed  and  adventur- 
ous march,  but  to  swell. its  peaceful,  though  victori- 
ous procession.  I  come  not  to  animate  the  battle^ 
but  to  chant  the  triumph. 

2.  And  surely,  sir,  it  is  worth  while  to  escape  for  a 
moment  from  the  feverish  turbulence  of  ordinary  pur- 
suits, to  contemplate  this  august  spectacle.  It  is  well 
worth  while  to  stand  by  for  a  moment,  and  observe 
this  mighty  union  of  rank,  and  sex,  and  age,  and  tal- 
ent, conspiring  to  the  promotion  of  an  object  so  noble., 
by  means  so  simple,  and  yet  so  grand. 

3.  A  few  years  ago  the  very  existence  of  this  Socie- 
ty was  doubtful.  That  sun  which  rose  in  such  splen- 
dour this  morning,  has  not  twice  finished  his  annual 
round,  since  this  society  was  exposed  to  the  most 
violent  attacks  from  the  most  formidable  quarter. 
That  sun  now,  in  the  course  of  his  circuit,  scarcely 
visits  any  region,  however  remote,  in  which  his 
beams  are  not  called  to  salute  some  memorial  or  gild 
some  trophy  of  our  success, 


60  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

4.  We  have  seen  this  Institution  beginning  from  a 
small  origin,  gradually  acquiring  strength,  enlarging 
itself  from  shore  to  shore,  from  kingdom  to  kingdom, 
from  nation  to  nation,  illuminating  mountain  after 
mountain,  and  exploring  the  depths  of  distant  vallies  ; 
thus  hastening  towards  that  glorious  consummation, 
when  it  shall  embrace  in  its  mild  and  holy  radiance 
all  the  habitable  globe.  The  impulse  is  given,  the 
career  is  begun  ;  and  I  firmly  believe  no  human  a- 
gency  can  now  arrest  its  progress. 

5.  And  why  do  I  believe  so,  sir  ?  Why  do  I  believe 
that  this  Institution  is  exempt  from  the  frailty  which  is 
common  to  other  institutions  ?  I  believe  so,  because 
this  Institution  is  founded  not  upon  fleeting  and  super- 
ficial impressions — not  upon  theory  and  the  vague 
dreams  of  fancy,  but  upon  principles  the  most  per- 
manent and  the  most  profound  in  the  human  charac- 
ter. 

6.  It  is  founded  upon  passions  which  can  never  be 
torn  from  our  nature — upon  the  deepest,  the  purest, 
the  most  amiable  emotions  of  the  mind — upon  what- 
ever affection  has  of  most  impressive,  sympathy  of 
most  endearing,  devotion  of  most  sublime.  It  carries, 
therefore,  in  its  bosom,  the  pledge  and  talisman  of  its 
future  prosperity,  and  we  may  securely  trust  it  to  the 
affections  of  every  coming  age. 

PART    II. 

1 .  Amid  various  sorrows  that  press  upon  our  feelings, 
there  is  none  more  distressing  than  the  sight  of  calami- 
ty without  the  power  of  relieving  it.  There  are  many 
afflictions  which  admit  of  relief,  which  can  be  removed 
by  the  exertions  of  wealth,  or  soothed  by  friendship  ; 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  61 

but  there  are  others  which  are  folded  up  in  the  reces- 
ses of  a  broken  heart,  which  no  sympathy  can  reach, 
no  human  efforts  assuage,  and  which  can  be  healed 
only  by  the  hand  that  gave  the  wound.  These  are 
the  sorrows  for  which  the  Bible  Society  provides. 

2.  If  I  were  able  to  trace,  and  could  persuade  you 
to  follow  me  in  tracing,  the  progress  of  one  of  those 
holy  volumes  which  we  are  met  to  distribute;  if,  for 
example,  we  could  stand  by  the  couch  of  intense 
pain;  of  pain  which  even  the  voice  of  friendship  is 
unequal  to  soothe,  which  seems  to  shiver  the  very 
existence,  and  looks  for  relief  only  in  the  sad  refuge 
of  the  grave  ;  if  we  could  her£  present  the  sacred 
volume,  and  develop  its  principles,  its  motives,  its 
consolations;  if  we  could  revive  in  the  agonized 
heart  the  remembrance  of  Him,  who,  from  the  man- 
ger to  the  cross,  was  acquainted  with  grief,  and 
familiar  only  with  privation  and  suffering ;  if  we 
could  awake  the  recollection  of  that  spotless 
Innocence  so  reviled,  that  ineffable  Meekness  so 
trampled  upon,  that  unutterable  Charity  so  insulted 
by  those  whom  it  came  to  save  ;  above  all,  if  we 
could  awake  the  memory  of  those  sorrows  which 
saddened  the  shades  of  Gethsemane,  and  have  made 
the  mournful  summit  of  Calvary  so  sacred  and  prec- 
ious in  the  eyes  of  gratitude  and  devotion: 

3.  Or  if  we  could  visit  another  scene,  and  observe 
human  nature  in  its  lowest  stage  of  degradation  ;  if 
we  could  penetrate  the  cell  of  the  convicted  mui 
derer,  on  whom  the  law  hasa'fixed  its  brand;  if  we 
could  mark  those  feelings  frozen  into  apathy,  that 
haggard  countenance  over  which  the  passions  have 


62  IKE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ceased  to  rave,  but  on  which  they  have  left  deep  the 
scars  of  their  devastation,  the  traces  of  those  team 
which  were  wrung  by  remorse,  and  have  been  dried 
by  despair;  those  convulsive  throbs  of  heart  which 
shake  the  whole  frame,  and  give  sad  omen  of  ap- 
proaching" fate  ;  if  at  such  a  moment  we  could  at 
once  unfold  the  volume  of  life,  and  with  an  angel 
voice  proclaim,  that  even  for  him  there  is  hope 
beyond  that  dark  scene  of  ignorance,  that  even  for 
him  there  is  forgiveness  before  the  Eternal  Throne — 
Why,  sir,  would  it  not  be  opening  Heaven  to  his 
view  ?  Would  not  a  sudden  warmth  thrill  his^bosom  ? 
Would  not  that  hardness  be  dissolved,  and  those  lixed 
eyes  melt  down  with  tears  of  penite-ncefand  prayer  ? 

4.  We  are  about  to  return  to  our  ordinary  pursuits 
and  pleasures  :  but  in  the  midst  of  that  career  let  us 
sometimes  pause,  and  recollect,  that  while  we  are 
immersed  in  business  or  amusement,  these  sacred 
volumes,  like  the  eternal  laws  of  nature,  are  silently 
performing  their  destined  functions;  are  still  continu- 
ing their  progress,  visiting  the  abodes  of  vice  and  con- 
tagion, descending  into  the  haunts  of  poverty  and  sor- 
row, cheering  the  cottage,  making  glad  the  solitary 
place,  and  brightening  the  desert  with  new  verdure. 

5.  We  cannot  indeed  trace  these  effects,  we  cannot 
perceive  the  hopes  which  are  awakened,  the  griefs 
which  are  assuaged,  the  hearts  which  are  bound  up. 
the  consolations  which  are  administered  :  But  there 
is  an  Eye  which  traces  them  ;  and  one  day,  perhaps, 
the  page,  in  which  those  hopes,  and  griefs,  and  con- 
solations are  recorded  and  treasured  up  for  remem- 
brance, may  be  unfolded  to  our  sight. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  63 

6.  On  that  day  we  shall  not  repent  that  we  have 
contributed,  in  our  humble  measure,  to  supply  to 
millions  of  our  fellow-creatures  the  means  of  consola- 
tion in  this  life,  and  of  happiness  in  a  future  state  of 
existence. 


EXTRACTS    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    REV.    W.    DEALTRY. 

Delivered  before  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society.  1814, 

1.  It  has  sometimes  been  said,  that  we  should  pres- 
ently droop  and  die  !  that  there  were  marvellous 
symptoms  of  decline  upon  us  already  !  We  ought  to 
blush  at  the  very  thought  of  it. 

2.  What  !  Shall  our  nerves  be  unstrung,  when 
Ethiopia  is  stretching  out  her  hands  unto  God  ?  Shall 
our  hearts  be  frozen,  when  Finland  and  Siberia  are 
melting  ?  Shall  we  slumber,  when  Prussia  and  India 
are  awaking  ?  Can  we  faint,  when  the  World  is 
rising  ? 

3.  What  cheering  prospects  are  now  presented  to 
us  !  We  seem  at  once  to  have  emerged  into  a  dif- 
ferent climate.  "  The  winter  is  past  ;  the  rain  is 
over  and  gone.     The  flowers  appear  on  the  earth  ; 

*  the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come   ;    and  the 
voice  of  the  turtle  is  heard  in  our  land." 

4.  It  was  but  as  yesterday,  that  we  seemed  to  be 
placed  upon  the  brow  of  a  mountain,  from  which  we 
beheld  the  moral  world  below  us  in  clouds  and  com- 
motion :  wherever  we  turned, 

"We  viewed  a  vast  immeasurable  abyss, 
81  Outrageous  as  a  sea,  dark,  wasteful,  wild." 


64  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

5.  But  the  clouds  are  now  breaking  ;  the  moral 
darkness  is  clearing  away  ;  the  landscape  is  widening 
and  extending  ;  many  worshippers  are  seen  advanc- 
ing to  the  courts  of  the  Lord  ;  many  sanctuaries  glad- 
den the  prospect  ;  many  harps  of  Zion  fling  to  the 
passing  breeze  their  sweet  and  varied  melody.  The 
nations  appear  to  be  animated  with  a  new  life  ;  and 
the  inhabitants  of  the  farthest  East  as  well  as  of  the 
Western  world,  are  turning  their  steps  to  the  city  of 
God. 

6.  Many  links  are  added  to  that  golden  chain  of 
charity,  which  ere  long  will  encircle  the  whole  fam- 
ily of  man.  It  reaches  even  now  from  Moscow 
to  Massachusetts,  from  Calcutta  to  Labrador. 

7.  Christian  harmony  and  Christian  fellowship 
flourish  and  abound,  wherever  the  influence  of  this 
Society  is  felt.  Its  Auxiliaries  may  be  remote  from 
each  other,  -but  their  views,  and  their  hopes,  and 
their  spirit,  are  the  same. 

8.  They  are  to  be  considered  as  the  solid  pillars  and 
magnificent  arches  of  a  building  fitly  framed  togeth- 
er, and  growing  "  unto  a  holy  temple  in  the  Lord."* 


EXTRACT    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    CHARLES    GRANT,    JR.    ESQ 

Delivered   before   the   British    and   Foreign   Bible    Soci 
ety.     1814. 

1.  There  is  indeed,  my  lord,  something  singula] 
in  this  Institution.  In  the  course  of  a  few  years, 
it  has  sprung  up  from  obscurity  to  eminence,  not 
•Amidst  peace  and  tranquillity,  not  under  the  fostering 
influence  of  universal  approbation  ;  not  under  skies 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  65 

always  serene  and  suns  always  genial  ;  but  amidst 
storms  and  tempests,  amidst  calumny  and  invective, 
amidst  alarming  predictions  and  presages  of  ill  suc- 
cess. 

2.  It  has  sprung  up  with  a  solidity  and  strength 
which  ensure  its  duration  ;  and  at  the  same  time  with 
a  rapidity  of  growth  which  mixes  somewhat  of  awe 
with  our  surprise  and  satisfaction.  It  is  successively 
enlarging  its  dominions.  Every  new  day  announces 
the  acquisition  of  a  new  province,  of  a  new  kingdom, 
I  had  almost  said,  of  a  new  world.  These  are  con- 
quests which  we  love  to  celebrate. 

3.  In  conquests  of  another  nature,  however  sacred 
the  cause  in  which  the  sword  has  been  drawn,  there 
is  always  something  which  detracts  from  the  joy, 
and  wounds  the  feelings  of  humanity. 

4.  In  the  midst  of  all  the  glow  and  exultation,  there 
is  something  which  secretly  tells  us  of  unwitnessed 
grief,  of  hearts  that  are  breaking  in  solitude  and 
silence  ;  something  which  tells  us  of  those,  to  whom 
these  acclamations  are  but  the  memorials  of  deep- 
er anguish,  and  speak  only  of  fathers,  and  husbands, 
and  brothers,  bleeding  and  desolate  on  the  plains  of 
death  ;  of  those,  in  a  word,  on  whom  the  war,  without 
shedding  any  of  its  glory,  has  poured  forth  all  its 
curses. 

5.  But  with  respect  to  the  conquests  which  we 
this  day  celebrate,  there  is  no  secret  misgiving,  no 
9hade  which  can  even  for  a  moment  pass  over  the 
brilliancy  of  the  scene.  Here  indeed  is  ample  scope 
for  the  widest  views. 

6.  But  after  having  abandoned  our  imagination  to 
Hie  utmost  warmth  of  philanthropic  ardor,     after 

F  2 


66  liiE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

having"  satisfied  our  largest  feelings,  we  may  fear- 
lessly descend  into  more  minute  investigations,  and 
inquire  how  far  individual  and  domestic  happiness  are 
affected  by  this  general  benefit.  We  may  enter  into 
the  lowest  details — and  what  are  the  details  of  these 
triumphs  ?  Griefs  allayed,  tears  wiped  away,  remorse 
appeased,  gleams  of  joy  diffused  over  the  house  of 
sorrow,  sickness  divested  of  its  bitterness,  the  tomb 
itself  sanctified  as  the  threshold  of  fairer  hopes  and 
nobler  prospects. 

7.  These  are  circumstances  which  we  may  chal- 
lenge the  purest  of  spiritual  beings  to  witness.  The 
angels  of  pity  and  love  might  descend  to  trace  with 
rapture  every  step  of  our  victorious  march. 

8.  Let  that  spirit  of  benevolence  which  has  already 
achieved  such  wonders,  now  go  forth  with  new 
strength,  and  renovated  ardor.  Let  it  rush,  in  the 
fulness  of  its  blessings,  from  one  extremity  of  the 
world  to  the  othef|  kindling  in  its  course  all  the 
elements  of  moral  Sfetion,  elevating  the  depressed, 
consoling  the  wretched,  transforming  vice  into  purity, 
and  folly  into  wisdom,  dissipating  the  chains  of  igno- 
rance, trampling  on  the  necks  of  superstition  and 
idolatry,  and  every  where  renewing  on  the  face  of 
desolated  nature  some  image  of  ancient  happiness 
and  primeval  paradise. 


ADDRESS  OF  THE  AMERICAN  fclBLE  SOCIETY,  TO  THE  PEO- 
PLE OF  THE  UNITED  STATES,  IMMEDIATELY  AFTER  ITS 
FORMATION    IN    THE    YEAR     1816. 

People   of  the    United  States  ; 

1.  Have  you  ever  been  invited  to  an  enterprise 
of  such  grandeur  and  glory  ?  Do  you  not  value  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  6  3 

Holy  Scriptures  ?  Value  them  as  containing-  your 
sweetest  hope;  your  most  thrilling  joy  ?  Can  you 
submit  to  the  thought  that  you  should  be  torpid  in 
your  endeavours  to  disperse  them,  while  the  rest  of 
Christendom  is  awake  and  alert? 

2.  Shall  you  hang  back,  in  heartless  indifference, 
when  princes  come  down  from  their  thrones,  to 
bless  the  cottage  of  the  poor  with  the  gospel  of 
peace;  and  imperial  sovereigns  are  gathering  their 
fairest  honors  from  spreading  abroad  the  oracles  of 
the  Lord  your  God  ?  Is  it  possible  that  you  should 
not  see,  in  this  state  of  human  things,  a  mighty  mo- 
tion of  Divine  Providence  ? 

3.  The  most  heavenly  charity  treads  close  upon 
the  march  of  conflict  and  blood  !  The  world  is  at 
peace  !  Scarce  has  the  soldier  time  to  unbind  his 
helmet,  and  to  wipe  away  the  sweat  from  his  brow, 
ere  the  voice  of  mercy  succeeds  to  the  clarion  of  bat- 
tle, and  calls  the  nations  from  enmity  to  love  !  Crown- 
ed heads  bow  to  the  head  which  is  to  wear  u  many 
crowns  ;"  and,  for  the  first  time  since  the  promulga- 
tion of  Christianity,  appear  to  act  in  unison  for  the  re- 
cognition of  its  gracious  principles,  as  being  fraught 
alike  with  happiness  to  man  and  honor  to  God. 

4.  What  has  created  so  strange,  so  beneficent  an 
alteration?  This  is  no  doubt  the  doing  of  the  Lord,  and 
it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.  But  what  instrument 
has  he  thought  tit  chiefly  to  use?  That  which  con- 
tributes, in  all  latitudes  and  climes,  to  make  Chris- 
tians feel  their  unity,  to  rebuke  the  spirit  of  strife, 
and  to  open  upon  them  the  day  of  brotherly  con- 
cord— the  Bible  !  the  Bible  ! — through  Bible  Soci- 
eties ! 


68  -THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATO:;. 

5.  Come  then,  fellow-citizens,  fellow  Christi  ins, 
let  us  join  in  the  sacred  covenant.  Let  no  heart  be 
cold;  no  hand  be  idie  :  no  purse  reluctant!  Come, 
while  room  is  left  for  us  in  the  ranks  whose  toil  is 
goodness,  and  whose  recompense  is  victory.  Come 
cheerfully,  eagerly,  generally. 

6.  Be  it  impressed  on  your  souls,  that  a  contribu- 
tion, saved  from  even  a  cheap  indulgence,  may  send 
a  Bible  to  a  desolate  family  ;  may  become  a  radiating 
point  of  u grace  and  truth"  to  a  neighbourhood  of 
error  and  vice;  and  that  a  number  of  such  contribu- 
tions made  at  really  no  expense,  may  illumine  a  large 
tract  of  country,  and  successive  generations  of  im- 
mortals, in  that  celestial  knowledge,  which  shall 
secure  their  present  and  their  future  felicity. 

7.  But  whatever  be  the  proportion  between  expec 
tation  and  experience,  thus  much  is  certain :  We 
shall  satisfy  our  conviction  of  duty — we  shall  have 
the  praise  of  high  endeavours  for  the  highest 
ends — we  shall  minister  to  the  blessedness  of  thous- 
ands, and  tens  of  thousands,  of  whom  we  may  never 
see  the  faces,  nor  hear  the  names. 

8.  We  shall  set  forward  a  system  of  happiness, 
which  will  go  on  with  accelerated  motion  and  aug- 
mented vigor,  after  we  shall  have  finished  our 
career;  and  confer  upon  our  children,  and  our 
children's  children,  the  delight  of  seeing  the  wilder- 
ness turned  into  a  fruitful  field,  by  the  blessing  of 
God  upon  that  seed  which  their  fathers  sowed,  and 
themselves  watered. 

9.  In  fine,  we  shall  do  onr  part  toward  that  expan- 
sion and  intensity  of  light  divine,  which  shall  visit, 
m  its  progress,   the  palaces  of  the  great,  aod  tbe 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,     t  69 

hamlets  of  the  small,  until  the  whole  "  earth  be  full 
of  the  knowledge  of  Jehovah,  as  the  waters  cover 
the   sea!" 


EXTRACT    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    THE    REV.     DR.     MASON. 

Delivered  at  the  Annual    Meeting   of  the  British  and  For- 
eign Bible  Society,  May,  1817. 

1.  My  lord,  it  would  create  a  smile,  if  the  subject 
were  not  infinitely  too  serious  for  smiles,  that  an 
apprehension  of  injury  to*  the  cause  of  sound 
Christianity,  from  the  labours  of  such  a  society  as 
this,  should  find  its  way  into  a  Christian  bosom.  If, 
as  your  own  Chilling  worth  has  exclaimed,  "The 
Bible,  the  Bible  i§  the  only  religion  of  Protestants,'9 
it  is  passing  strange,  that  any  good  man  should  be 
afraid  of  dispersing  it  abroad,  that  is,  spreading  his 
his  own  religion. 

2.  My  lord,  the  man  who  reads  and  reverences  the 
Bible,  is  not  the  man  of  violence  and  blood  :  he  will 
not  rise  up  from  the  study  of  lessons  which  the  Holy 
Ghost  teaches,  to  commit  a  burglary  :  he  will  not 
travel  with  a  Bible  under  his  arm,  and  meditating 
upon  its  contents  as  forming  the  rule  of  his  conduct, 
to  celebrate  the  orgies  of  Bacchus,  or  the  rites 
of  the  Cyprian  Venus.  Assuredly  they  were  not  the 
leaves  of  the  Bible  which  in  1780  kindled  the 
flames  of  Newgate;  nor  is  it  from  the  stores  of 
inspired  eloquence  that  the  apostles  of  mischief  draw 
those  doctrines  and  speeches  which  delude  the 
understanding,  and  exasperate  the  passions  of  an 
ignorant  and  ill-judging  multitude. 


70  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

3.  The  influence  of  the  Bible,  upon  the  habits 
the  community,  is  calculated  to  set  up   around  every 
paternal  government  a  rampart  better  than  walls,  and 
guns,  and  bayonets — a  rampart  of  human  hearts. 

4.  For  the  same  reasons,  the  Bible,  in  proportion 
as  it  is  known  and  believed,  must  produce  a  general- 
ly good  effect  on  the  condition  of  the  world.  In  form- 
ing the  character  of  the  individual  and  the  nation, 
it  cannot  fail  to  mould  also,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree,  the  conduct  of  political  governments  towards 
each  other. 

5.  It  is  not  in  the  Bible,  nor  in  the  spirit  which 
it  infuses,  that  the  pride  which  sacrifices  hecatombs, 
and  nations  of  men  to  its  lawless  aggrandizement, 
either  finds,  or  seeks  for,  its  aliment  ;  and  had 
Europe  been  under  the  sway  of  the  Book  of  God, 
this  age  had  not  seen  a  monster  of  ambition,  endeav- 
ouring to  plant  one  foot  on  the  heights  of  Mont- 
martre,  and  the  other  on  the  hills  of  Dover ;  and 
while  he  scowled  on  the  prostrate  continent,  streach- 
ing  out  his  right  hand  to  rifle  the  treasures  of  the 
East,  and  his  left  to  crush  the  young  glorieS  of  the 
West.  Such  a  spirit  was  never  bred  in  the  bosom, 
nor  drew  nourishment  from  the  milk  of  a  Bible 
Society. 

6.  The  cause  and  interest  of  the  Bible  Society  are  not 
the  cause  and  interest  of  a  few  visionaries,  inebriated 
by  romantic  projects. — It  is  the  causo  of  more  than 
giant  undertakings  in  regular  and  progressive  execu- 
tion. The  decisive  battle  has  been  fought ;  opposi- 
tion comes  now  loo  late. 

7.  He  who  would  arrest  the  march  of  Bible  Socie- 
ties, is   attempting  to  stop   the  moral  machinery  of 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  71 

the  world,  and  can  look  for  nothing  but  to  be  crush- 
ed to  pieces.  The  march  must  proceed.  Those 
disciplined  and  formidable  columns,  which  under 
the  banner  of  divine  truth  are  bearing  down  upon 
the  territories  of  death,  have  one  word  of  command 
from  on  high,  and  that  word  is  u  Onward." — The 
command  does  not  fall  useless  on  the  ears  of  this 
Society.  May  it  go  "  onward, "  continuing  to  be, 
and  with  increasing  splendor,  the  astonishment  of 
the  world. 

8.  A  word  more,  my  lord,  and  I  shall  have 
done.  It  relates  to  a  topic  on  which  1  know  not 
whether  my  emotions  will  allow  me  to  express  my- 
self distinctly  ;  it  is  the  late  unhappy  difference 
between  my  countrv  and  this — between  the  land 
of  my  fathers  and  the  land  of  their  children. 

9.  I  cannot  repress  my  congratulations  to  both, 
that  the  conflict  was  so  short,  and  the  reconcilia- 
tion so  prompt ;  and,  I  trust,  not  easily  to  be  broken. 
Never  again,  my  lord,  (it  is  a  vow  in  which  I  have 
the  concurrence  of  all  noble  spirits  and  all  feeling 
hearts,)  never  again  may  that  humiliating  spectacle — 
two  nations  to  whom  God  has  vouchsafed  the  enjoy- 
ment of  rational  liberty  ;  two  nations  who  are  ex- 
tensively engaged,  according  to  their  m^ans,  in  en- 
larging the  kingdom,  in  spreading  the  religion  of 
the  Lord  Jesus — the  kingdom  of  peace — the  relig- 
ion of  love — those  two  nations  occupied  in  the  un- 
holy work  of  shedding  each  other's  blood.  Never 
again  may  such  a  spectacle  be  exhibited  to  the  eyes 
of  afflicted  Christianity  !  May  their  present  concord, 
written  not  merely  with  pen  and  ink,  but  on  the 
living   tablets   of  the  heart,  enforced  by  the  senti- 


7:2  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ment  of  a  common  origin,  by  common  language, 
principles,  habits,  hopes,  aDd  gaaranteed  by  an  all 
gracious  Providence,  be  uninterrupted!  May  t bey, 
and  their  Bibie  Societies,  striving  together  with  one 
heart  and  one  soul  to  bring  glory  to  God  in  the  high- 
est, and  on  earth  to  manifest  good  will  towards  men, 
go  on,  increasing  in  their  zeal,  their  efforts,  and 
their  success  ;  and  making  stronger  and  stronger, 
by  the  sweet  charity  of  the  Gospel,  the  bands  of 
their  concord. 


EXTRACT  FROM  THE  SFEECH  OF  CHARLES  GRANT,    JOT.  ESQ. 

Delivered  before  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society, 
at  their  12th  Anniversary,  on  a  motion  of  thanks  to  Aux- 
iliary Societies. 

1.  "  But  what  is  it  that  shall  render  our  thanks 
worthy  of  this  universal  acceptance?  What  is  our 
connection  with  those  to  whom  we  offer  them?  By 
what  ties  are  we  bound  to  thr^m  ?" 

2.  "  We  are  bound  to  them  by  sacred  ties,  by 
congenial  feelings,  by  kindred  affections  :  we  have 
with  them  common  joys,  and  common  sorrows  ; — 
hopes  interwoven  with  our  immortal  nature  :  union 
endeared  by  those  common  hopes  and  common  sor- 
rows. 

3.  I  speak  of  sorrows,  and  yet  I  have  called  this  a 
festival.  In  ordinary  festivals  we  exclude  every 
thing  of  distress:  in  the  ordinary  scenes  of  festal 
relaxations  we  forget  (if  we  can  forget)  that  there 
are  in    the   world  around  us  griefs   most  agonized 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  73 

which  cannot  be  relieved, — sympathies  most  dear 
which  must  be  broken — friendships  most  united, 
which  must  be  dissolved — hearts  most  knit  together, 
which  must  be  torn  asunder. 

4.  We  forget,  that  there  is  one  pillow  on  which 
every  head  must  rest,  every  eye  be  closed.  We 
forget  that  there  is  one  narrow  house,  to  which  no 
wealth  can  impart  comfort,  to  which  no  dignity  can 
confer  lustre,  from  which  no  power  can  give  ex- 
emption. 

5.  But  here  these  topics  are  legitimate  and  neces- 
sary ;  because  here,  as  the  basis  and  motive  of  our 
meeting,  we  aver  the  frail  and  precarious  tenure,  on 
which  we  hold  and  enjoy  life  ;  because  it  is  the 
very  charm  of  our  Society,  that  it  connects  together 
the  common  wants  and  common  sorrows  of  mankind. 

6.  But  our  connection  with  those  to  whom  we  are 
offering  our  thanks  does  not  rest  here ;  it  is  not  only 
because  we  have  common  sorrows,  but  because  we 
have  common  hopes  also.  Whatever  is  most  inter- 
esting to  the  reason,  elevating  to  the  affections,  con- 
solatory to  the  sorrows,  animating  to  the  hopes  of 
all  mankind,  is  combined  in  the  volumes  which  we 
distribute. 

7.  To  every  pain,  they  give  its  suitable  alle- 
viation ;  to  every  distress  its  best  remedy ;  to  parted 
friendship,  they  hold  forth  re-union  ;  to  sickness,  un- 
fading health;  to  death,  they  open  prospects  beyond 
this  world  ;  to  the  anguish  that  kneels  over  the 
grave,  the  hope  that  triumphs  in  the  resurrection. 

8.  These  are  the  etherial  visitants  that  descend 
to  mix  with  men.  It  is  in  the  solitude  of  grief,  in 
the  desertion  of  anguish,  that  the  eye,  purified  by 


JT4  1HE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

tears,  discerns  the  celestial  guests  :  In  the  ordinary 
commerce   of  the  world  they  are  more  obscured. 

9.  These  hopes  are  like  the  stars  that  brighten 
the  firmament  of  night.  In  the  glare  of  day,  in  the 
meridian  brightness  of  the  sun,  they  are  unobserv^ 
ed ;  but  when  the  traveller  is  alone  in  the  darkness, 
when  he  anticipates  an  impenetrable  night,  he  then 
observes  the  fires  that  are  kindled  in  the  firma- 
ment to  guide  and  cheer  his  steps. 

10.  It  is  on  these  hopes,  and  these  sorrows,  com- 
mon to  our  whole  race,  that  our  union  is  founded.  To 
sustain  these  hopes,  and  to  cheer  these  sorrows,  is 
the  common  object  which  binds  every  patron  to  our 
society.  So  long  as  we  rely  on  these  two  emotions  of 
our  common  nature,  our  union  will  be  profound  as 
our  sorrows,  and  unfading  as  our  hopes.  No  weak- 
ness will  be  produced  by  extending  our  efforts  : 
the  more  we  enlarge  our  limits,  the  deeper  will  be 
our  foundations  ;  the  wider  we  diffuse  our  exertions, 
the  more  triumphant  will  be  their  energy." 


THE    BIBLE   ABOVE    ALL   PRICE. 

From  a  Discourse  before  the  Bible  Society  of  Maine,  bv 
Rev.  Edward  Payson. 


PART    I. 


1.  The  Bible  is  not  only  the  most  ancient  book, 
but  the  most  ancient  monument  of  human  exertion, 
the  oldest  offspring  of  human  intellect,  now  in  exist- 
ence. Unlike  the  other  works  of  man,  it  inheriti 
uot  his  frailty.  All  the  contemporaries  of  its  infancy 
have  long  since  perished,  and  are  forgotten  ;    yet 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  75 

this  wonderful  volume  still  survives.  Like  the 
fabled  pillars  of  Seth,  which  are  said  to  have  bid  de- 
fiance to  the  deluge,  it  has  stood  for  ages,  unmoved  in 
the  midst  of  that  flood,  which  sweeps  away  men  with 
their  labors  into  oblivion. 

2.  We  contemplate,  with  no  ordinary  degree  of 
interest,  a  rock,  which  has  braved  for  centuries  the 
ocean's  rage,  practically  saying,  "  Hitherto  shall 
thou  come,  but  no  farther  ;  and  here  shall  thy 
proud  waves  be  stayed."  With  still  greater  interest, 
though  of  a  somewhat  different  kind,  should  we  con- 
template a  fortress,  which,  during  thousands  of  years, 
had  been  constantly  assaulted  by  successive  genera* 
tions  of  enemies  :  around  whose  walls  millions  had 
perished  ;  and,  to  overthrow  which,  the  utmost  ef- 
forts of  human  force  and  ingenuity  had  been  exerted 
in  vain. 

3.  Such  a  rock,  such  a  fortress,  we  contemplate  in 
the  Bible.  For  thousands  of  years  this  volume  has 
withstood,  not  only  the  iron  tooth  of  time,  which  de- 
vours men  and  their  works  together,  but  all  the 
physical  and  intellectual  strength  of  man.  Pretend- 
ed friends  have  endeavoured  to  corrupt  and  betray 
it  :  kings  and  princes  have  perseveringly  sought  to 
banish  it  from  the  world  ;  the  civil  and  military  pow- 
ers of  the  greatest  empires  have  been  leagued  for  its 
destruction  ;  the  fires  of  persecution  have  been  often 
lighted  to  consume  it  • 

4.  Yet  still  the  object  of  all  these  attacks  remains 
uninjured  ;  while  one  army  of  its  assailants  after  a- 
nother  has  melted  away.  Though  it  has  been  ridi- 
culed more  bitterly,  misrepresented  more  grossly, 
opposed    more  rancorously,    and   burnt   more   fre- 


76  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

quently,  than  any  other  book,  and  perhaps  than  all 
other  books  united  ;  it  is  so  far  from  sinking  under 
the  efforts  of  its  enemies,  that  the  probability  of  its 
surviving  until  the  final  consummation  of  all  things  is 
now  evidently  much  greater  than  ever.  The  rain 
has  descended  ;  the  floods  have  come  5  the  storm 
has  arisen  and  beaten  upon  it  ;  but  it  falls  not,  for  it 
is  founded  upon  a  rock. 

5.  Who  would  not  esteem  it  a  most  delightful 
privilege,  to  see  and  converse  with  a  man,  who  had 
lived  through  as  many  centuries,  as  the  Bible  has  ex- 
isted ;  who  had  conversed  with  ail  the  successive 
generations  of  men,  and  been  intimately  acquaint- 
ed with  their  motives,  characters,  and  conduct  ? 
What  could  be  more  interesting  than  the  sight  ; 
what  more  pleasing  and  instructive,  than  the  society 
of  such  a  man  ?  Yet  such  society  we  may  in  effect 
enjoy,  whenever  we  choose  to  open  the  Bible.  In 
this  volume  we  see  the  chosen  companion,  the  most 
intimate  friend  of  the  prophets,  ihe  apostles,  the 
martyrs,  and  their  pious  contemporaries  ;  the  guide, 
whose  directions  they  implicitly  followed  ;  the*mon- 
itor,  to  whose  faithful  warnings  and  instructions  they 
ascribed  their  wisdom,  their  virtues,  and  their  hap- 
piness. 

6.  This  too  is  the  book,  for  the  sake  of  which  our 
pious  ancestors  forsook  their  native  land,  and  came  to 
this  then  desolate  wilderness ;  bringing  it  with  them, 
as  their  most  valuable  treasure,  and  at  death  be- 
queathing it  to  us,  as  the  richest  bequest  in  their 
power  to  make.  From  this  source  they,  and  millions 
more  now  in  heaven,,  derived  the  strongest  and  pur- 
est consolation  ;    and  scarcely  can  we  fix  our  atten- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  77 

tion  en  a  single  passage  in  this  wonderful  book, 
which  has  not  afforded  comfort  or  instruction  to  thou- 
sands, and  been  wet  with  tears  of  penitential  sorrow 
or  grateful  joy,  drawn  from  eyes,  that  will  weep  no 
more.  There  is  probably  not  an  individual  present, 
some  of  whose  ancestors  did  not,  while  on  earthf 
prize  this  volume  more  than  life  ;  and  breathe  many 
fervent  prayers  to  heaven,  that  all  their  descendants, 
to  the  latest  generation,  might  be  induced  to  prize  it 
in  a  similar  manner. 

7.  To  this  volume  we  are  also  indebted  for  the 
reformation  in  the  days  of  Luther  ;  for  the  conse- 
quent revival  and  progress  of  learning  ;  and  for  our 
present  freedom  from  papal  tyranny.  Wherever  it 
comes,  blessings  follow  in  its  train.  Like  the  stream, 
which  diffuses  itself,  and  is  apparently  lost  among  the 
herbage,  it  betrays  its  course  by  its  effects.  Where- 
ever  its  influence  is  felt,  temperance,  industry,  and 
contentment  prevail  ;  natural  and  moral  evils  are 
banished,  or  mitigated  ;  and  churches,  hospitals,  and 
asylums  for  almost  every  species  of  wretchedness  a- 
rise,  to  adorn  the  landscape,  and  cheer  the  eye  of  be- 
nevolence. 

PART    II. 

1.  In  the  fabulous  records  of  pagan  antiquity  we 
iread  of  a  mirror  endowed  with  properties  so  rare, 
that,  by  looking  into  it,  its  possessor  could  discover 
any  object,  which  he  wished  to  see,  however  re- 
mote ;  and  discover  with  equal  ease  persons  and 
things  above,  below,  behind,  and  before  him.  Such 
a  mirror,  but  infinitely  more  valuable  than  this  ficti- 
tious glass,  do  we  really  possess  in  the  Bible.  By  cm- 
G  2 


78  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ploying  this  mirror  in  a  proper  manner,  we  may  dis- 
cern objects  and  events,  past,  present,  and  to  come. 

2.  Here  we  may  contemplate  the  all  enfolding  cir- 
cle of  the  Eternal  Mind  ;  and  behold  a  most  perfect 
portrait  of  Him,  whom  no  mortal  eye  hath  seen, 
drawn  by  his  own  unerring  hand.  Piercing  into  the 
deepest  recesses  of  eternity,  we  may  behold  Him, 
existing  independent  and  alone,  previous  to  the  first 
exertion  of  his  creating  energy.  We  may  see  heav- 
en, the  habitation  of  his  holiness  and  glory,  u  dark 
with  the  excessive  brightness"  of  his  presence  ;  and 
hell,  the  prison  of  his  justice,  with  no  other  light 
than  that,  which  the  fiery  billows  of  his  wrath  cast, 
"  pale  and  dreadful,"  serving  only  to  render  "dark- 
ness visible." 

3.  Here  too  we  may  witness  the  birth  of  the 
world,  which  we  inhabit  f  stand,  as  it  were,  by  its 
cradle  ;  and  see  it  grow  up  from  infancy  to  manhood, 
under  the  forming  hand  of  its  Creator.  We  may  see 
light  at  his  summons  starting  into  existence,  and  dis- 
covering a  world  of  waters  without  a  shore.  Con- 
trolled by  His  word,  the  waters  subside  ;  and  islands 
and  continents  appear,  not,  as  now,  clothed  with 
verdure  and  fertility,  but  sterile  and  naked,  as  the 
sands  of  Arabia. 

4.  Again  he  speaks  ;  and  the  landscape  appears, 
uniting  the  various  beauties  of  spring,  summer,  and 
autumn  ;  and  extending  farther  than  the  eye  can 
reach.  Stiil  ail  is  silent;  not  even  the  hum  of  the 
insect  is  heard  ;  the  stillness  of  death  pervades 
creation ;  til),  in  an  instant,  songs  burst  from  every 
grove;  and  the  startled  spectator,  raising  his  eyes 
from  the  carpet  at  his  feet,  sees  the  air,  the  earth, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  79 

and  the  sea  filled  with  life  and  activity,  in  a  thousand 
various  forms. 

5.  By  opening  this  volume,  we  may,  at  any  time, 
walk  in  the  garden  of  Eden  with  Adam  ;  sit  in  the  ark 
with  Noah ;  share  the  hospitality,  or  witness  the 
faith  of  Abraham ;  ascend  the  mount  of  God  with 
Moses ;  unite  in  the  secret  devotions  of  David ; 
or  listen  to  the  eloquent  and  impassioned  address 
of  St.  Paul.  Nay,  more  ;  we  may  here  converse  with 
Him,  who  spake,  as  never  man  spake  ;  participate 
with  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect  in  the 
employments  and  happiness  of  heaven. 

6.  Destroy  this  volume,  as  the  enemies  of  human 
happiness  have  vainly  endeavoured  to  do,  and  you 
render  us  profoundly  ignorant  of  our  Creator ;  of 
the  formation  of  the  world,  which  we  inhabit  ;  of 
the  origin  and  progenitors  of  our  race  ;  of  our  pres- 
ent duty  and  future  destination  ;  and  consign  us 
through  life  to  the  dominion  of  fancy,  doubt,  and 
conjecture. 

7.  Destroy  this  volume;  and  you  rob  us  of  the 
consolatory  expectation,  excited  by  its  predictions, 
that  the  stormy  cloud,  which  has  so  long  hung  over 
a  suffering  world,  will  at  length  be  scattered ;  you 
forbid  us  to  hope  that  the  hour  is  approaching,  when 
nation  shall  no  more  lift  up  sword  against  nation  ; 
and  righteousness,  peace  and  holy  joy  shall  univer- 
sally prevail  ;  aud  allow  us  to  anticipate  nothing, 
but  a  constant  succession  of  wars,  revolutions,  crimes, 
and  miseries,  terminating  only  with  the  end  of  time, 

8.  Destroy  this  volume ;  and  you  deprive  us,  at  a 
single  blow,  of  religion,  with  all  the  animating  con- 
solations, hopes  and  prospects  which  it  affords  ;    and 


&0  THE    CHRISTIAN"    ORATOR. 

leave  us  nothing-,  but  the  liberty  of  choosing'  (miser- 
ble  alternative  !)  between  the  cheerless  gloom  of 
infidelity,  and  the  monstrous  shadows  of  paganism — 
you  unpeople  heaven;  bar  forever  its  doors  against 
the  wretched  posterity  of  Adam  ;  restore  to  the  king 
of  terrors  his  fatal  sting :  bury  hope  in  the  same 
grave,  which  receives  our  bodi  :s  ;  consign  all  who 
have  died  before  us,  to  eternal  sleep,  or  endless 
misery  ;  and  allow  us  to  expect  nothing  at  death,  but 
a  similar  fate.  In  a  word,  destroy  this  volume,  and 
you  take  from  us  at  once  every  thing  which  pre- 
vents existence  from  becoming  of  all  curses  the 
greatest  :  You  degrade  man  to  a  situation,  from 
which  he  may  look  up  with  envy  to  u  the  brutes 
that  perish." 


SPEECH    OF    GEORGE    GRIFFIN,    ESQ. 

Delivered  before  the    American  Bible  Society,  immediate- 
ly after  its  formation,  in  New-York,  May,  1816. 

PART    I. 

1.  I  am  persuaded  that  there  is  no  person  present, 
who  does  not  feel  the  inspiration  of  this  occasion. 
For  myself,  I  congratulate  my  country,  that  we  now 
find  on  her  annals  the  name  of  The  American  Bible 

Society. 

2.  This  is  an  occasion  to  awaken  the  best  feelings 
of  the  heart.  We  are  assembled,  not  to  rouse  the  ran- 
cour of  political  zeal ;— not  to  arrange  plans  of  for- 
eign conquest ;— not  to  shout  the  triumphs  of  vic- 
tory. We  have  a  nobler  object ;— to  aid  the  march 
of  the  everlasting  Gospel  through  the  world,— to 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  81 

spread  abroad  a  fountain,  whose  waters  are  intended 
for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 

3.  The  design  of  this  august  institution  is  not  mere- 
ly to  relieve  the  wants  of  our  own  country,  but  to 
extend  the  hand  of  charity  to  the  most  distant  lands  • 
to  break  asunder  the  fetters  of  Mahometan  impos- 
ture ;  to  purify  the  abominations  of  Juggernaut  : 
to  snatch  the  Hindoo  widow  from  the  funeral  pile  ; 
to  raise  the  degraded  African  to  the  sublime  con- 
templation of  God  and  immortality  ;  to  tame  and 
baptize  in  the  waters  of  life  the  American  savage  ; 
to  pour  the  light  of  heaven  upon  the  darkness  of 
the  Andes ;  and  to  call  back  the  nations  from  the  al- 
tars of  devils  to  the  temple  of  the  living  God. 

4.  These  high  objects  are  to  be  accomplished  by 
the  universal  promulgation  of  the  Bible  ;  the  Bible — 
that  volume,  conceived  in  the  councils  of  eternal 
Mercy,  containing  the  wondrous  story  of  redeeming 
love,  blazing  with  the  lustre  of  Jehovah's  glory  ; — 
that  volume,  pre-eminently  calculated  to  soften  the 
heart,  sanctify  the  affections,  and  elevate  the  soul  of 
man ;  to  enkindle  the  poet's  fire,  and  teach  the  phi- 
losopher wisdom  ;  to  consecrate  the  domestic  rela- 
tions ;  to  pour  the  balm  of  heaven  into  the  wounded 
heart ;  to  cheer  the  dying  hour,  and  shed  the  light 
of  immortality  upon  the  darkness  of  the  tomb. 

5.  I  reiterate  the  mighty  term — the  BIBLE;  that 
richest  of  man's  treasures — that  best  of  Heaven's 
gifts.  Amazing  volume  !  In  every  one  of  thy  pages, 
1  see  the  impress  of  the  Godhead. 

6.  How  divine  are  thy  doctrine?,  how  pure  thy 
precepts,  how  sublime  thy  language !    How  unaffect- 


82  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ing  is  the  tenderness  of  an  Otway,  or  an  Euripedes. 
when  compared  with  the  heart-touching  pathos  ot 
thy  David  or  Jeremiah  !  How  do  the  loftiest  effu- 
sions of  a  Milton  or  a  Homer  sink,  when  contrasted 
with  the  sublimer  strains  of  thine  Isaiah  or  Ha- 
bakkuk ! 

7.  And  how  do  the  pure  and  soul-elevating  doctrines 
of  thy  Moses  or  thy  Paul  look  down,  as  from  the 
height  of  heaven,  'upon  the  grovelling  systems  of 
a  Mahomet  or  Confucius !  Give  this  Bible  an  em- 
pire in  every  heart,  and  the  prevalence  of  crime  and 
misery  would  yield  to  the  universal  diffusion  of  mil- 
lennial glory. 

8.  Destroy  this  Bible ;  let  the  ruthless  arm  of  in- 
fidelity tear  this  sun  from  the  moral  heavens,  and  all 
would  be  darkness,  and  guilt,  and  wretchedness ; 
again  would 

"  Earth  [feel]  the  wound,  and  nature  from  her  seat, 
"  Sighing  through  all  her  works,  [give]  signs  ot  wo, 
"That  all  was  lost." 

PART    II. 

1.  Eighteen  centuries  ago,  the  divine  Author  of  our 
religion,  about  to  ascend  to  his  native  heavens,  pro- 
nounced with  his  farewell  voice,  u  Go  ye  into  all 
the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature." 
A  little  band  of  Christian  heroes  obeyed  the  heav- 
enly mandate  ;  and,  clothed  in  their  Master's  ar- 
mour, encountered  and  overcame  the  united  powers 
of  earth  and  hell. 

2.  But  the  apostolic  age  did  not  always  last.     Sev 
enteen  hundred  years  have  since  elapsed,  and  more 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  85 

than  three-fourths  of  the  human  family  are  still  en- 
veloped in  Pagan  or  Mahometan  darkness.  A  leth- 
argy, like  the  sleep  of  the  sepulchre,  had  long  fast- 
tened  itself  on  the  Christian  world. 

3.  It  was  the  tremendous  earthquake  of  modern 
atheism,  that  roused  them  from  this  slumber;  and 
while,  during  the  last  twenty  years,  the  vials  of  God's 
wrath  have  been  pouring  upon  the  nations,  convuls- 
ing to  its  centre  this  distracted  globe,  the  Bible 
has  re-commenced  its  triumphs. 

4.  This  tree  of  Heaven's  planting  has  stood  and 
strengthened  amidst  the  prostration  of  thrones,  and 
the  concussion  of  empires.  The  apostolic  age  is 
returning.  The  countries  of  Europe,  which  lately 
rung  with  the  clangor  of  arms,  are  now  filled  with 
Societies  for  the  promulgation  of  the  Gospel  of 
peace. 

5.  Through  those  fields,  but  lately  drenched  in  hu- 
man blood,  now  flow  the  streams  of  salvation.  Eu- 
rope is  bending  under  the  mighty  effort  of  extend- 
ing redemption  to  a  world.  Kings  and  emperors 
are  vieing  with  the  humblest  of  their  subjects  in 
this  stupendous  work.  The  coffers  of  the  rich  are 
emptied  into  heaven's  treasury,  and  there  also  is 
received  the  widow's  mite. 

6.  But  there  is  one  nation  which  has  stood  forth 
pre-eminent  in  this  career  of  glory.  With  the  pro- 
foundest  veneration,  I  bow  before  the  majesty  of 
the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society.  This  illus- 
trious association,  (its  history  is  recorded  in  heaven, 
and  ought  to  be  proclaimed  on  earth,)  has  been  in- 
strumental in  distributing  a  million  and  a  half  of  vol- 


84  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

umesof  the  word  of  life;  and  has  magnanimously  ex- 
pended,  in  a  single  year,  near  four  hundred  thousand 
dollars  for  the  salvation  of  man.  This  transcendent 
institution  is  the  brightest  star  in  the  constellation  of 
modern  improvements,  and  looks  down  from  itseeles- 
tial  elevation  on  the  diminished  glories  ol  the  Grecian 
and  Roman  name. 

7.  The  electric  shock  has  at  length  reached  our 
shores.  Local  Bible  Societies  have  been  heretofore 
established  in  this  country  ;  but  they  wanted  extent 
of  means,  comprehensiveness  of  design,  and  consoli- 
dation of  action. 

8.  It  was  to  be  expected,  and  the  Christian  uorld 
had  a  right  to  expect,  that  the  American  nation  would 
arise  in  the  majesty  of  its  collected  might,  and  unite 
itself  with  the  other  powers  of  Christendom,  in  the 
holy  confederacy  for  extending  the  empire  of  religion 
and  civilization.  This  auspicious  era  has  now  ar- 
rived. 

9.  The  last  week  has  witnessed  an  august  assem- 
blage of  the  fathers  of  the  American  Churches,  of 
every  denomination,  convened  in  this  metropolis  from 
all  parts  of  the  country,  not  to  brandish  the  sword  of 
religious  controversy,  but  to  unite  with  one  heart,  in 
laying  the  foundation  of  the  majestic  superstructure 
of  the  American  Bible  Society. 

10  Athens  bonsted  of  her  temple  of  Minerva  ; 
but  our  city  is  more  truly  consecrated,  by  being  the 
seat  of  this  hallowed  edifice.  It  is  not  a  mosque  con- 
taining, or  reputed  to  contain,  the  remains  of  the  A- 
rabian  prophet,  but  a  fabric  reared  and  devoted  to 
the  living  God  by  the  united  efforts  of  the  American 
Churches, 


#r- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  85 

II.  Fellow-citizens  !  will  you  coldly  receive  this 
honor,  or  will  you  not  rather  show  yourselves  wor- 
thy of  this  sacred  distinction  ?  I  am  persuaded,  that 
your  muniti<  euee  and  zeal  in  this  holy  cause  will  be 
recorded  as  an  animating  example  to  the  nation.  For 
to  whom  should  it  he  reserved  to  electrify  this  west- 
ern continent,  but  to  the  London  of  America  ?  Our 
country  has  long  stood  forth  the  rival  of  England  in 
commerce  and  in  arms ;  let  her  not  be  left  behind  in 
the  glorious  rareer  of  evangelizing  the  world. 


SPEECH    OF    PETER    A.    JAY,    ESQ. 

Delivered  before  a  meeting  held  in  the  city  of  New-York, 
immediately  after  the  formation  of  the  American  Bible 
Society. 

PART    I. 

1.  When  we  consider  the  multiplied  divisions 
■which  exist  in  this  extensive  country  ;  the  animosi- 
ties of  political  parties,  the  multitude  of  our  religious 
sects,  the  local  interests  and  jealousies,  that  have  so 
often  impeded  or  defeated  the  most  salutary  under- 
takings, we  have  reason  to  be  astonished  at  the  per- 
fect unanimity,  which  has  in  this  instance  prevailed 
among  delegates  from  widely  distant  parts  of  the 
union,  and  of  various  political  and  religious  denomi- 
nations. It  marks,  indeed,  the  finger  of  Providence, 
that  always  provides  means  for  the  accomplishment 
of  his  own  great  and  beneficent  purposes. 

2.  Under  Providence,  this  unanimity  can  only  be 
ascribed  to  the  strong  sense  of  duty  in  those  who 

H4* 


86  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

composed  the  constitution,  which  we  have  heard, 
and  to  the  singleness  oT  object  they  had  in  view. 
The  latter,  I  esteem  the  great  characteristic,  which, 
I  trust,  will  render  the  American  Bible  Society  an 
honor  to  the  country,  and  a  blessing  to  the  world. 

3.  Our  efforts  in  the  great  cause  of  diffusing  Chris- 
tianity, when  compared  with  those  of  other  nations, 
have  hitherto  been  small.  Not  that  we  have  want- 
ed means  ;  for,  except  during  a  short  interval,  we 
have  been  blessed  with  peace  and  with  abundance. 
Nor  will  I  impute  it  to  want  of  zeal  for  the  happi- 
ness of  mankind.  But  our  efforts  have  been  sepa- 
rately made,  and  were,  therefore,  feeble.  We  have 
nowT  a  common  centre  in  which  we  can  unite  ;  we 
have  now  a  cause  in  which  all  can  join. 

4.  Our  object  is  to  distribute  the  Holy  Scriptures 
without  note  or  comment.  At  this,  no  politician  can 
be  alarmed,  no  sectary  can  be  reasonably  jealous. 
We  shall  distribute  no  other  book,  we  shall  teach  no 
disputed  doctrine.  Laying  aside  for  this  purpose  the 
banners  of  our  respective  corps,  we  assemble  under 
the  sole  standard  of  the  great  Captain  of  our  salvation. 
We  endeavor  to  extend  his  reign,  and  in  his  name 
alone  we  contend. 

5.  Do  we  wish  to  improve  the  temporal  condition 
of  the  human  race  ?  Then  experience  has  shown, 
that  Christianity  is  the  most  efficient  agent.  Sur- 
vey the  world — WThere  have  barbarism  and  igno- 
rance, and  superstition,  and  cruelty,  and  all  the 
demons  of  darkness,  their  abodes  ?  Where,  but  in 
those  unhappy  regions  that  sit  in  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  death,  deprived  of  the  light  of  the  gospel 
of  Christ?  And  where  do  you  find  knowledge,  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  87 

humanity,  and  charity?  Where  do  the  sciences  and 
the  arts  reside  ?  Where  does  commerce  flourish  ? 
Where  does  liberty  dwell  ?  No  where  but  in  the 
Christian  world. 

6.  Christianity  enlarges  the  mind  while  it  purifies 
the  heart.  It  expands  our  views,  it  animates  us  with 
the  most  powerful  motives,  and  while  it  teaches  that 
we  are  members  of  the  great  family  of  mankind,  it 
enables  us  to  perform  the  duties  which  that  relation 
imposes. 

7.  While  Mahommedan  nations  have  long  been 
stationary  or  retrograde  ;  while  the  inhabitants  of 
India  continue  to  practise  their  bloody  and  abomina- 
ble rites ;  while  most  other  pagans  are  sunk  almost 
below  the  condition  of  the  brutes  that  perish  ;  the 
Christian  world  has  advanced  with  rapid  strides  in 
civilization,  in  wealth,  in  humanity,  in  every  thing 
that  contributes  to  temporal  prosperity,  as  well  as  in 
the  virtues  which  fit  us  for  immortality. 

PART    II. 

1.  An  irrevocable  decree  has  gone  forth,  an  in- 
violable promise  has  been  made,  that  they,  who  turn 
many  to  righteousness,  shall  shine  like  stars  forever 
and  ever.  But  how  shall  those  who  are  doomed  to 
business  and  labor,  turn  many  to  righteousness  ?  Such 
is  the  constitution  of  human  society,  that  all  cannot  be 
misionaries  ;  all  cannot  apply  themselves  to  the  spir- 
itual concerns  of  others.  This  Society  enables  all  to 
contribute  to  the  spiritual  improvement  of  all. 

2.  The  Bible  is  the  best  of  missionaries.  It  will 
reach  where  no  preacher  can  penetrate  ;  it  will  preach 
where  he  cannot  be.  heard  ;  it  will  reprove,  alarm,  ad 


88  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

vise,  console  in  solitude,  when  no  passion  interferes  to 
drown  its  voice.  Of  these  missionaries  thousands  may 
be  sent  abroad,  and  where  the  seed  is  abundantly 
sown,  we  may  reasonably  hope  for  an  abundant  harvest. 

3.  Though  the  diffusion  of  the  scriptures  is  the 
great  end  of  our  Institution,  yet  another  blessing  will 
also  spring  from  it.  Too  long  have  Christians  been 
divided.  Sect  has  been  opposed  to  sect ;  angry  con- 
troversies have  agitated  tne  church  ;  misrepresenta- 
tions have  been  made,  and  believed ;  and  good  men, 
who  ought  to  have  loved  each  other,  have  been  kept 
asunder  by  prejudices,  which  were  the  offspring  of 
ignorance. 

4.  In  this  Society  the  most  discordant  sects  will  meet 
together,  engaged  in  a  common  cause  ;  prejudices 
will  abate  ;  asperities  will  be  softened  ;  and  when  it 
16  found,  as  undoubtedly  it  will  be  found,  that  the  same 
love  of  God  and  of  man  animates  all  real  christians, 
whatever  may  be  their  outward  rites,  or  forms  of  ec- 
clesiastical discipline,  that  most  of  them  agree  in  fun- 
damental doctrines,  and  that  their  differences  princi- 
pally relate  to  points  of  little  practical  importance, 
there  must  be  an  increase  of  brotherly  love,  and  of  a 
truly  catholic  spirit. 

5.  Sir,  I  pretend  not  to  see  more  clearly  than  others 
through  the  dim  veil  of  prophecy,  but  if  the  predic- 
tions which  foretel  a  millennial  period  of  happiness  ou 
earth  are  ever  to  be  literally  fulfilled,  it  can  only  be 
by  the  accomplishment  of  another  prophecy,  that 
"  The  knowledge  of  the  Lord  shall  cover  the  earth, 
as  the  waters  cover  the  sea."  Let  us  then  be  bless- 
ed instruments  in  the  diffusion  of  this  knowledge,  that 
having  contributed  to  the  triumph  of  the  Redeemer's 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  89 

cause,  we  may  be  permitted  to  partake  it.  Then  we 
shall  be  entitled  to  address  the  Christian  Church  in  the 
exalting  strains  : 

The  seas  shall  waste,  the  skies  in  smoke  decay  ; 
Rocks  fall  to  dust,  and  mountains  melt  away  ; 
But  fix'd  his  word,  his  saving  power  remains, 
Thy  realm  forever  lasts,  thy  ov/n  Messiah  reigns. 


Missionary  Speeches. 

THE    OFFICE    OF    THE   CHRISTIAN    MISSIONARY,     NOBLE    ANB 
ELEVATED. 

From  Rev.  R.  Hall's  Address  to  E.  Carey.     1814. 

1.  If  to  survey  mankind  in  different  situations,  and 
under  the  influence  of  opposite  institutions,  civil  and 
religious,  tends  to  elevate  the  mind  above  vulgar 
prejudice,  by  none  is  this  advantage  more  eminently 
possessed  than  by  Christian  Missionaries.  In  addition 
to  the  advantages  usually  anticipated  from  foreign 
travel,  their  attention  is  directly  turned  to  man  in 
the  most  interesting  light  in  which  he  can  be 
viewed. 

2.  An  intelligent  Missionary,  in  consequence  of 
daily  conversing  with  the  natives  on  the  most 
momentous  subjects,  and  at  the  most  affecting  mo- 
ments, has  opportunities  of  becoming  acquainted,  not 
merely  with  the  surface  of  manners,  but  with  the 
interior  of  the  character,  which  can  rarely  fall  to 
the  lot  of  any  other  person  ;  besides  that,  Christian- 
ity, it  may  be  justlv  affirmed,  is -the  i?est  decvpherer 


90  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

of  the    human   heart,  and   is   that  alone  which  can 
solve  its  contradictions  and  explain  its   anomalies. 

3.  Hence  it  may  be  fairly  expected,  nor  will  the 
expectation  disappoint  us,  that  an  experienced 
Missionary,  possessed  of  the  talent  and  habit  of  obser- 
vation, will,  in  every  country,  deserve  to  be  classed 
amongst    the    most    enlightened   of    its    inhabitants. 

4.  Few  things  more  powerfully  tend  to  enlarge 
the  mind,  than  conversing  with  great  objects,  and 
engaging  in  great  pursuits.  That  the  object  of  the 
Missionary  is  entitled  to  that  appellation,  will  not  be 
questioned  by  him  who  reflects  on  the  infinite  advan- 
tages derived  from  Christianity,  to  every  nation  and 
clime,  where  it  has  prevailed  in  its  purity,  and  that 
ihe  prodigious  superiority  which  Europe  possesses 
over  Asia  and  Africa,  is  chiefly  to  be  ascribed  to  this 
cause. 

5.  It  is  the  possession  of  a  religion  which  compre- 
hends the  seeds  of  endless  improvement,  which 
maintains  an  incessant  struggle  with  whatever  is 
barbarous,  selfish,  or  inhuman,  which  by  unveiling 
futurity,  clothes  morality  with  the  sanction  of  a  di- 
vine law,  and  harmonises  utility  and  virtue  in  every 
combination  of  events,  and  in  every  stage  of  exist- 
ence ;  a  religion,  which  by  affording  the  most  just 
and  sublime  conceptions  of  the  Deity  and  of  the 
moral  relations  of  man,  has  given  birth  at  once  to 
the  loftiest  speculation,  and  the  most  child-like  hu- 
mility, uniting  the  inhabitants  of  the  globe  into  one 
iamrly,  and  in  the  bonds  of  a  common  salvation  ;  it 
is  this  religion,  which,  rising  upon  us  like  a  finer  sun, 
has  quickened  moral  vegetation,  and  replenished 
Europe  with  talents,  virtues  and  exploits,  which,  in 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  91 

spite    of  its  physical  disadvantages,   have  rendered 
it  a  paradise,  the  delight  and  wonder  of  the  world.     . 

6.  An  attempt  to  propagate  this  religion  among  the 
natives  of  Hindostan,  may  perhaps  be  stigmatized  as 
visionary  and  romantic  ;  but  to  enter  the  lists  of  con- 
troversy with  those  who  would  deny  it  to  be  great 
and  noble,  would  be  a  degradation  to  reason. 


CHRISTIANITY    AND    PAGANISM    CONTRASTED. 

A  Speech  of  the  Rev.  G.  T.  Noel.     1815. 

1.  My  lord — there  are  peculiar  seasons  under 
which  the  mind  is  enabled  to  form  a  more  striking 
contrast  than  at  others,  between  the  blessings  of 
Christianity  and  the  miseries  of  Paganism — seasons 
when  only  perhaps  some  single  point  of  difference  is 
present  to  the  view.  It  occurred  to  me  a  short  time 
ago,  to  fill  up  the  interval  before  the  appointed  hour 
when  I  was  to  witness  the  proceedings  of  a  Bible 
Association  among  the  poor,  by  wrandering  in  the 
church-yard  of  a  country  village. 

2.  The  day  wTas  fine,  and  the  surrounding  country 
was  exceedingly  lovely.  My  feelings  were  much  ex- 
cited as  I  stopped  at  the  grave  of  an  humble  individ- 
ual, who  had  quitted  this  vale  of  sorrow  at  the  age  of 
twenty-one  ;  on  her  tomb  stone  was  this  inscription — 

4t  By  faith  on  Jesus'  conquests  she  relied, 
On  Jesus'  merits  ventured  all,  and  died  !" 

3.  I  was  led  immediately  to  compare  the  circum- 
stances of  such  a  death,  and  the  blessedness  of  such  a 
hope  in  eternity,  with  the  uncertainty  and  gloom  of 


92  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

a  heathen's  departure  from  this  world.  I  could  im- 
agine to  myself  a  place  of  burial  in  some  idolatrous 
land,  where  the  sun  might  shine  as  brightly,  and  the 
surrounding  scenery  be  yet  more  beautiful. 

4.  But  if  1  should  ask  what  memorial  would  be 
written  on  some  youthful  grave,  I  was  aillicted  at  the 
thought  that  all  must  be  dark  and  cheerless  here  !  Nc 
ray  from  heaven  could  gleam  on  such  a  grave.  Many 
traces  of  fond  remembrance,  many  anguished  memo- 
rials of  the  poet,  many  tender  associations  might  be 
recorded  on  the  stone  that  marked  so  sacred  a  spot  ; 
but  no  hope  of  future  re-union,  no  accredited  prospect 
of  an  immortal  existence,  no  certain  assurance  of  par- 
don, and  mercy,  and  peace,  could  be  written  there  ! 

5.  No  tidings  of  a  Saviour's  love,  no  consolations  of 
his  Spirit,  no  foretaste  of  his  salvation,  could  cheer  the 
victims  sinking  into  the  dust,  or  bind  up  the  mourn- 
ers' hearts  who  deposited  in  silence  the  form  which 
they  had  loved  so  long.  In  that  land  none  tells  them, 
in  those  striking  words  of  your  Report,  that  they  have 
God  for  a  Father,  Christ  for  a  Saviour,  the.  Holy 
Spirit  for  a  Guide,  and  Heaven  for  a  home,  where 
they  shall  separate  no  more. 

6.  Oh,  then,  how  beautiful  upon  th-e  mountains 
should  we  esteem  the  feet  of  him  who  would  carry  the 
glad  tidings  of  peace  to  scenes  so  desolate,  and  to 
hearts  so  broken  by  sorrow  and  sin  i 


THE    CLAIMS    OF   AFRICA. 
Extracts  from  a  Speech  of  John  S.  Harford,  Esq.    1815. 

1.  Over  the  greater  part  of  Africa,  every  baleful 
form  of  savage  barbarism  broods.    Who  could  have 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  93 

believed,  in  the  second  century,  when  Christianity 
appeared  to  have  obtained  a  firm  hold  on  her  north- 
ern shores,  and  the  presence  of  no  less  than  seventy 
bishops  dignified  the  council  of  Carthage,  that,  in  the 
progress  of  ages,  whilst  surrounding  nations  were  ad- 
vancing in  knowledge  and  civilization,  the  rising  sun 
of  Africa's  glory  was  not  only  to  be  arrested  in  its 
course,  but  suddenly  to  sink  in  a  hideous  night  ? 

2.  Who  could  have  believed,  when  the  great  Bishop 
of  the  African  church  reflected,  by  his  heroic  martyr- 
dom, so  much  honor  on  the  Christian  cause,  that  the 
name  of  Cyprian  was  so  soon  to  be  forgotten,  where 
most  of  all  its  memory  should  have  been  cherished,  or 
that  the  Crescent  was  destined  so  soon  to  triumph 
over  the  Cross  ?  Who  could  have  believed,  that, 
where  Mahometanism  was  shut  out,  there  a  still  more 
odious  faith  should  prevail,  and  the  worship  of  devils 
be  united  to  a  profligacy  almost  equally  improbable  ? 

3.  The  picture  of  300*  millions  of  people  thus  en- 
thralled, should  at  least  excite  the  inquiry,  "  Can  we 
devise  no  means  for  their  illumination  ?  Are  there  no 
instruments  within  our  reach,  which  may  be  thus  no- 
bly directed  ?" 

4.  But  Africa  has  stronger  claims  upon  us  than 
those  of  humanity.  She  has  large  arrears  upon  our 
justice  unpaid.  We  have  been  the  authors  of  enor- 
mous evils  to  that  unhappy  country.  The  dreadful 
wounds  which  our  influence  opeced  there  are  not 
yet  healed. 

5.  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  horrors  of  the  slave 
trade,  farther  than  to  assert  the  moral  necessity  which 
is   thence  laid  upon   us  of  supporting  every   rational 

*   150  millions. 


94 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 


scheme  of  reparation.  We  have  wiped  away  the 
guilt  and  shame,  it  is  true,  of  this  odious  traffic,  so  far 
as  the  mere  abolition  of  it  goes  ;  and  hereby  we  have 
perhaps  averted  impending  judgments  :  but  are  we 
not  bound  to  reverse  the  horrid  scenes  of  the  past  by 
the  mild  glories  of  the  future  ? 

6.  Africans  say,  "  that,  before  Christians  visited 
them,  they  lived  in  peace  ;  hut  that  wherever  Chris- 
tianity comes,  there  comes  with  it  a  sword,  gun,  pow- 
der, and  ball."  Is  this  the  impression  which  our 
countrymen  have  left  behind  them  of  that  religion, 
one  of  whose  leading  attributes  is,  Peace  and  good 
will  to  men  ?  Be  it  our  care  to  blot  out  this  foul 
stain,  and  to  revive  the  remark  forced  from  the  lips 
of  infidelity  in  the  primitive  ages  :  u  See  Jbow  these 
Christians  love  one  another  '" 

7.  Were  I  disposed  to  strengthen  my  own  state- 
ments by  an  appeal  to  high  authority,  I  could  point  to 
that  of  a  much  lamented  and  illustrious  statesman, 
Mr.  Pitt.  In  one  of  his  speeches*pn  the  slave  trade, 
which  ranks  among  the  fairest  models  of  modern  elo- 
quence, he  strongly  dwells  upon  the  duty  of  our  pro- 
moting the  civilization  of  Africa  :  and,  in  the  glowing 
visions  of  his  brilliant  fancy,  he  realizes  the  scene 
for  which  his  heart  pleaded. 

8.  He  anticipates  a  day,  when  the  beams  of  science 
and  philosophy  shall  break'inupon  Africa  ;  and,  unit- 
ing their  influenre  to  that  of  pure  religion,  shall  il- 
luminate and  invigorate  the  most  distant  extremities 
of  that  immense  continent.  Could  the  warmest  ad- 
vocate of  Missionary  Institutions  have  suggested  to 
himself  a  more  satisfactory  consummation  of  his  ob- 
ject ? 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  95 

AN    OBJECTION    TO    MISSIONS    ANSWERED. 

Extracts  from  a   Speech  of  J    S.    Harford,   Esq.       1813. 

1.  The  state  of  Pagan  nations,  Sir,  is  such,  that  it 
would  be  easy  to  press  the  arguments  which  I  have 
used  much  more  strongly;  but  I  am  well  aware,  that 
after  all  which  can  be  urged,  there  are  persons  who 
will  be  ready  to  object,  "  This  is  a  Quixotical,  crusad- 
ing scheme.  What  right  have  we  to  interfere  in  the 
faith  or  the  regulations  of  other  nations  ?  What  should 
we  say,  were  the  Grand  Turk  to  send  us  10,000 
copies  of  the  Koran,  accompanied  by  a  set  of  mission- 
aries, to  make  us  Mahometans  ;  or  still  more,  in  what 
way  should  we  receive  a  mission  of  Bramins  ?" 

2.  To  such  a  question  I  would  simply  reply,  What 
right  had  St.  Paul  (who  I  shall  take  it  for  granted,  ac- 
cording to  the  learned  theory  of  the  present  Bishop  of 
St.  David's,  first  preached  the  Gospel  in  Britain)  what 
right  had  he  to  visit  this  country  when  the  thick  film 
of  Pagan  darkness  involved  the  minds  of  its  inhabitants? 
What  right  had  he  to  brave  the  terrors  of  our  stormy 
seas,  and  to  encounter  the  still  more  savage  manners 
of  our  ancestors  ? 

3.  What  right  had  he  to  oppose  himself  to  their 
horrid  customs,  to  throw  down  by  his  doctrine  their 
altars  stained  with  the  blood  of  human  sacrifices,  and  to 
regenerate  the  code  of  their  morals  disgraced  by  the 
permission  of  every  crime  which  can  brutalize  and  de- 
grade human  nature  ?  What  right  had  he  to  substitute, 
for  the  furious  imprecations  of  their  druids,  the  still 
small  voice  of  Hifli  who  was  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart?  / 


i)Q  'illE     CHRISTIAN     CKA'IOK. 

4.  What  right  had  he  to  exchange  their  horrid 
turcs  of  the  imisihle  world,  recking  with.  Mood  and 
stained  with  characters  of  revenge,  for  the  glorious 
prospects  of  the  heavenly  Mount  Sion,  the  ini.umera- 
bie  company  of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect  ?  What  right  had  he  to  plant,  by  such  a  pro- 
cedure, the  seminal  principle  of  all  our  subsequent 
glory  and  prosperity  as  a  nation,  our  boasted  liberty, 
our  admirable  code  of  law,  the  whole  inimitable  frame 
and  constitution  of  our  government  in  church  and 
state  ? 

5.  This  quarrel  with  the  memory  of  St.  Paul  I  shall 
leave  with  the  opponents  of  Missionary  institutions  to 
settle  ;  and  when  they  have  made  up  their  minds  as  to 
the  degree  of  infamy  which  is  to  cleave  to  him,  for 
having  been  (in  a  remote  sense  at  least)  the  first  con- 
veyancer to  us  of  the  best  blessings  which  we  now  en- 
joy, I  will  then  consign  over  the  Missionaries  of  the 
present  day  to  their  severest  reprehension.  Theirs 
is  the  same  noble  fault !  theirs,  the  same  great  enter- 
prise ! 

6.  To  countries  situated  as  Britain  once  was,  im- 
mersed in  equal  wretchedness,  barbarity,  and  vice, 
they  carry  the  same  infallible  panaceum  :  they  hope 
that,  under  the  blessing  of  the  great  Head  of  the 
church,  a  success  equally  striking  will,  in  process  of 
time,  by  a  gradual  progression,  smile  upon  their  la- 
bors. They  trust  that,  wherever  the  song  of  Sion 
is  heard,  its  influence,  as  is  fabled  of  the  lyre  of  Am- 
phion,  will  cause  the  moral  chaos  to  leap  into  beauty, 
order,  and  harmony. 

7.  And  why  should  it  not  ?  Is  the  arm  of  God  short- 
ened? Are  the  strong  holds  of  Satan's  kingitom  be- 


THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  97 

some  impregnable  ?  Do  we  expect  that  a  mission  of 
angels  will  be  employed  to  fulfil  the  predictions  of 
prophecy  in  relation  to  the  universal  diffusion  of 
Christianity  ?  or  can  we  suppose  that  any  beings  but 
men  are  to  be  its  honored  propagators? 

8.  We  live  in  awful  and  critical  times.  Around  us 
lie  scattered  the  fragments  of  ancient  states  and  ven- 
erable establishments.  The  only  sure  foundation  on 
which  we  can  build  a  hope,  that  the  pillar  of  our 
country's  glory  will  still  lift  its  august  head  erect 
amidst  this  heap  of  desolation,  and  still  continue  to  be 
a  rallying  point  for  oppressed  nations,  is  the  preva- 
lence within  its  confines  of  pure  religion. 

9.  1  admire,  as  much  as  any  man  the  valor  of  our 
armies,  and  the  skill  of  our  commanders.  I  honor 
them  as  instruments  of  national  security.  But  we 
have  lately  seen  how  the  most  consummate  skill  may 
become  infatuated,  and  armies  apparently  irresistible 
be  so  swept  away,  that  their  bleaching  bones  alone 
can  testify  that  they  once  existed. 

!0.  If  true  practical  Christianity  should  still  gain 
ground  among  us  ;  if  it  should  so  prevail  as  to  exhibit, 
amidst  all  our  national  sins,  a  strong  and  concentrated 
union  of  good  men  (however  separated  in  minor  points) 
striving  in  the  spirit  of  mutual  good  will,  in  their  sev- 
eral spheres,  for  the  diffusion  of  domestic  piety,  and 
for  the  promotion  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  through- 
out the  nations  of  the  earth  ;  then  we  may  calmly  re- 
gard the  efforts  of  our  enemies,  confident  in  the  pro- 
tecting shield  of  Omnipotence  :  then,  we  may  expect 
ere  long  to  behold  the  halcyon  forms  of  peace  and 
love  building  their  nests  upon  the  agitated  waves  of 
I 


98  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

human  trouble  :  then,  the  world  will  be  taught  to 
know  that  a  nation,  in  which  the  fear  of  God  is  no  less 
eminent  than  the  spirit  of  valor  and  freedom,  is  in- 
deed invincible. 


EXTRACTS    FROM    A    SPEECH    OF    THE    REV.   J.    H.   RINGER, 
Delivered  before  an  Irish  Missionary  Society.     1815. 

1.  I  cannot,  my  lord,  avoid  congratulating  myself 
that  Ireland  has  at  length  taken  her  proper  station 
among  the  glorious  fellow-workers  with  God  ;  that  the 
country  of  my  birth,  and  the  religion  of  my  choice,  the 
land  with  which  I  nave  associated  all  my  hopes  of  hap- 
piness, and  the  faith  which  I  trust  has  sanctified  these 
hopes,  have  not  remained  idle  spectators  of  the  exer- 
tions of  others,  but  that  they  too  have  come  down  to 
assist    the  Lord  against  the  mighty. 

2.  Is  it  not,  my  lord,  to  be  ranked  among  the 
strangest  anomalies  of  the  human  mind,  that  this  great, 
this  interesting  object,  should  have  met  with  heads  so 
prejudiced,  or  hearts  so  hard,  as  to  oppose  its  success  ? 

3.  Is  it  not  strange,  that  a  cause  which  appeals  by 
every  motive  which  should  move  the  politician,  the 
philanthropist,  the  Christian — which  should  bind  the 
worldling  by  his  interests,  the  moralist  by  his  human- 
ity, the  Christian  by  his  hopes — a  cause  whose  only 
means  are  benefits  and  persuasion,  whose  end  is  but 
happiness  and  salvation  to  millions  of  our  benighted 
species,  whose  tendency  is  but  peace  and  good  will  on 
earth — that  such  a  cause,  the  cause  of  God  and  man,  of 
ourselves  and  of  our  fellow  creatures,  should  be  oppos- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  99 

ed,  maligned,,calumniated — that  rank  and  influence  and 
learning  should  be  arrayed  against  the  simple  Mis- 
sionary— that  facts  should  be  misrepresented  or 
denied,  reasoning  perverted  or  silenced  ;  nay,  that  the 
morality  of  the  Koran  and  the  mildness  of  the  Vedas, 
should  have  been  placed  in  impious  competition 
beside  the  law  of  God,  beside  the  Gospel   of  Christ ! 

4.  Would  you  preserve  your  possessions  in  the 
East,  an  empire,  at  which  the  cupidity  of  an  Alexan- 
der or  a  Cassar  might  blush  ;  an  empire,  from  which, 
by  a  thousand  channels,  wealth  and  industry  and  com- 
merce have  poured  into  your  country,  have  new 
strung  the  exhausted  sinews  of  war,  and  conducted 
you  unharmed  through  the  mighty  contest  from 
which  you  are  just  now  reposing — would  you  pre- 
serve this  empire  in  peace,  and  hand  it  down  entire 
to  your  posterity,  that  they  too  may  stand  forth  in 
their  day  as  the  liberators  of  Europe — Christianize 
the  East. 

5.  Should  the  whirlwind  of  war  again  be  turned 
against  your  territories  directed  by  anew  Tamerlane 
or  a  Jenghis,  beware  of  a  divided  faith,  of  an  alien- 
ated population :  if  you  would  bind  your  subjects 
to  your  interests  by  a  tie  stronger  than  art  or  policy 
ever  devised,  if  you  would  rest  in  security  from  for- 
eign invasion,  and  domestic  treason — Christianize  the 
East. 

6.  Nor  is  it  by  policy  alone  that  I  would  induce  you 
to  an  act  of  justice.  Humanity  has  her  claims  ;  and 
millions  of  your  fellow  subjects,  groaning  under  the 
aggravated  miseries  of  despotism  and  priestcraft,  pre- 
sent an  object  for  benevolence  more  extended  and 


100  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOK. 

more   urgent  than   was   ever  offered  to  the  contem- 
plation of  man. 

7.  Would  you  relieve  these  wretched  victims  of 
superstition? — would  you  rescue  the  pilgrim  from 
tlje  agonizing  hook,  snatch  the  aged  parent  from  the 
monster  of  the  desert  or  the  flood,  save  the  trem- 
bling matron  from  the  devouring  flames,  or  prevent 
the  wretched  infant  from  becoming  the  victim  of 
its  more  wretched  mother's  bigotry  ? — would  you 
restore  the  parent  to  the  child,  and  the  child  to  the 
parent  ? — Christianize  the  East. 

8.  But  we  have  yet,  my  lord,  a  higher  principle  of 
action.  We  regard  the  Hindoo  and  the  African  not 
merely  as  subjects,  or  as  men,  but  as  immortal  and 
responsible  agents,  in  whatever  climate  born,  or 
with  whatever  colour  tinged  ;  equally  with  ourselves 
to  stand  before  the  bar  of  God,  to  be  judged  by  an 
infinite  and  perfect  Being  ;  equally  with  us  to  have 
sinned  and  fallen  short  of  the  law  ;  equally  to  want 
a  Saviour,  whose  merit9  and  sufferings  they,  may 
plead  on  that  dreadful  day. 

9.  Will  you  suffer  millions  of  your  fellow  creatures 
to  remain  ignorant  of  that  Saviour,  until  they  see 
him  as  their  judge  ?  Is  there  aught  on  earth  would 
purchase  from  you  the  knowledge  of  Christ  and  his 
salvation  ?  And  can  you  refuse  them  the  preacher,  that 
they  may  hear,  that  they  may  believe,  that  they  may 
live?  Oh,  if  you  indeed  think  that  there  is  no  other 
name  undar  heaven  whereby  man  can  be  saved %  but  the 
name  of  Jesus — if  you  do  not  think  our  faith  to  be 
foolishness,  and  its  promises  delusions — if  you  do 
not  expect  that  Brahma,  and  Mahomet,  and  Christ  shall 

.  be  alike  powerful  to  save — Oh  Christianize  the  East 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  101 


ON     THE     DANGER     OF      SENDING     MISSIONARIES     TO     THE 
HEATHEN. 

Extracted  from  the  Speech  of  Rev.  Mr.  Bicker steth,  before 
an  Association  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  Sept,, 
1815. 

1.  If  the  danger  be  objected  to  us,  I  answer  by 
asking  how  do  we  reason  in  worldly  matters  ?  If  a 
hostile  kingdom  is  to  be  invaded,  Wellington  shall 
have  his  100,000  of  our  noblest  and  bravest  men — - 
the  first  men  in  the  country  :  they  shall  be  exposed 
to  most  tremendous  danger ;  thousands  of  them  shall 
fall;  and  yet  Wellington  will  not  stop  till  he  reaches 
the  head-quarters,  and  triumphs  in  the  very  capital 
of  our  enemy.  I  need  not  speak  the  praise  of  Well- 
ington— then  blame  not  in  us,  what  you  commend  in 
him. 

2.  We  are  called  upon  to  send  an  invading  army 
into  the  kingdom  of  darkness,  under  the  banners  of 
that  Mighty  Prince,  who  never  yet  failed  of  success. 
Let  not  British  Christians  be  less  valiant  than  Brit- 
ish Soldiers.  Our  hope  is  more  glorious,  our  re- 
ward more  illustrious,  our  success  more  certain,  and 
it  will  bring  more  abundant  benefits  to  man. 

3.  The  love  of  country  induces  the  soldier  to  give 
up  friends  and  relatives,  and  all  that  is  dear  to  him. 
The  love  of  country ,A the  love  of  mankind,  and  the 
love  of  the  Saviour — all  unite  to  constrain  the  Mis- 
sionary to  give  up  all  he  can  for  Christ ;  and  if  it  does 
30,  is  it  not  ours  to  support  him  in  this  welfare  ! 

4.  If  it  be  saicf,  M  We  see  few  signs  of  success  id 
Africa,'*  I  answer,  It  is  the  peculiar  property  of  faith, 

I  9 


102  JHE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

to  excite  us  to  labor  in  the  performance  of  a  plaia 
duty,  though  the  reward  be  unseen,  depending  upon 
the  promise  that  it  shall  eventually  succeed  ;  and  I 
answer  again,  many  Missionary  attempts^  which  have 
ultimately  been  greatly  blessed,  have  at  the  begin- 
ning had  great  discouragements.  That  noble  Mission 
of  the  Baptists,  which  now  fills  the  Christian  world 
with  admiration,  did  not,  for  a  long  season,  seem  at 
all  to  prosper  :  nor,  as  you  have  heard,  are  we  with- 
out success  in  Africa. 

5.  My  lord — when  I  look  back  upon  the  long, 
dark,  and  dreary  night  of  Paganism,  and  when  1  ob- 
serve again  the  various  degrees  of  success  which 
God  has  given  to  the  prudent  exertions  of  all  his 
servants,  of  every  denomination,  in  every  part  of 
the  world,  methinks  I  see  the  first  appearance  of 
the  dawn  of  a  better  day. 

6.  I  behold  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  rising,  with 
healing  in  his  wings,  upon  a  benighted  world — the 
first  streaks  of  his  approach  paint  the  horizon — a 
cheering  and  comfortable  tinge  glows  in  the  sky — the 
edges  of  the  clouds  grow  brighter  and  brighter — the 
shades  of  night  recede,  and  the  people  that  walk  in 
darkness  shall  yet  see  the  great  Light  of  the  world. 

7.  Did  our  opponents  wish  to  hinder  our  success, 
which  I  will  never  believe  they  do,  they  could  soon- 
er stop  the  advance  of  the  splendid  luminary  of  the 
heavens,  than  retard  the  progress  of  that  infinitely 
more  glorious  Sun,  which  is  the  light  to  lighten  the 
Gentiles,  and  will  yet  be  the  glory  of  Israel 

8.  Africa  may  indeed  now  be  ^s  still  as  the  wa- 
ters of  the  most  retired  and  embosomed  lake  ;  but, 
my  lord,  that  stone  of  the  gospel  is  yet  to  be  throwD 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  103 

in,  which  will  not  only  make  a  circle  in  its  own  im- 
mediate neighbourhood,  but  a  wider  and  wider  and 
still  wider  circle,  till  it  embraces  the  whole  surface, 
end  Africa  is  moved  to  its  farthest  bounds." 


Speeches  on  War. 

ON    THE    HORRORS    OF    WAR. 

From  a   Sermon  of  Rev.  Robert  Hall,  delivered  in  England, 
June,  1802,  on  a  day  of  Thanksgiving  for  a  general  Peace. 

PART    I. 

1.  Real  war,  my  brethren,  is  a  very  different  thing 
from  that  painted  image  of  it,  which  you  see  on  a  pa- 
rade, or  at  a  review  ;  it  is  the  most  awful  scourge  that 
Providence  employs  for  the  chastisement  of  man.  It 
is  the  garment  of  vengeance  with  which  the  Deity 
arrays  himself,  when  he  comes  forth  to  punish  the  in- 
habitants of  the  earth. 

2.  Though  we  must  all  die,  as  the  woman  of  Tekoa 
said,  and  are  as  water  spilt  upon  the  ground  which 
cannot  be  gathered  up,  yet  it  is  impossible  for  a  hu- 
mane mind  to  contemplate  the  rapid  extinction  of  in- 
numerable lives  without  concern.  To  perish  in  a 
moment,  to  be  hurried  instantaneously,  without  prepa- 
ration and  without  warning,  into  the  presence  of  the 
Supreme  Judge,  has  something  in  it  inexpressibly 
awful  and  affecting. 

3.  Since  the  commencement  of  those  hostilities 
which  are  now  so  happily  closed,  it  may  be  reasona- 
bly conjectured  that  not  less  thau  half  a  million  of 


104  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

our  fellow  creatures  have  fallen  a  sacrifice.  Haifa 
million  of  beings,  sharers  of  the  same  nature,  warmed 
with  the  same  hopes,  and  as  fondly  attached  to  life  as 
ourselves,  have  been  prematurely  swept  into  the 
grave  ;  each  of  whose  deaths  has  pierced  the  heart 
of  a  wife,  a  parent,  a  brother,  or  a  sister.  How  ma- 
ny of  these  scenes  of  complicated  distress  have  oc- 
curred since  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  is 
known  only  to  Omniscience  :  that  they  are  innume- 
rable, cannot  admit  of  a  doubt.  In  some  parts  of 
Europe,  perhaps,  there  is  scarcely  a  family  exempt 

4.  In  war  death  reigns  without  a  rival,  and  without 
control.  War  is  the  work,  the  element,  or  rather 
the  sport  and  triumph,  of  death,  who  glories  not  only 
in  the  extent  of  his  conquest,  but  in  the  richness  of 
his  spoil.  In  the  other  methods  of  attack,  in  the 
other  forms  which  death  assumes,  the  feeble  and  the 
aged,  who  at  the  best  can  live  but  a  short  lime,  are 
usually  the  victims ;  here  it  is  the  vigorous  and 
the  strong. 

5.  It  is  remarked  by  the  most  ancient  of  poets, 
that  in  peace  children  bury  their  parents,  in  war 
parents  bury  their  children :  nor  is  the  difference 
small.  Children  lament  their  parents,  sincerely  in- 
deed, but  with  that  moderate  and  tranquil  sorrow, 
which  it  is  natural  for  those  to  feel  who  are  con- 
scious of  retaining  many  tender  ties,  many  animating 
prospects.  Parents  mourn  for  their  children  with 
the  bitterness  of  despair;  the  aged  parent,  the  wid- 
owed mother,  loses,  when  she  is  deprived  of  her 
children,  every  thing  but  the  capacity  of  suffering  ; 
her  heart,  withered  and  desolate,  admits  no  other 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  105 

object,  cherishes  no  other  hope.  His  Rachel  weep" 
ing  for  her  children,  and  refusing  to  be  comforted^  be- 
cause they  are  not. 

PART    II. 

1.  To  confine  our  attention  to  the  number  of  those 
who  are  slain  in  battle,  would  give  but  a  very  inad- 
equate idea  of  the  ravages  of  the  sword.  The  lot  of 
those  who  perish  instantaneously,  may  be  considered, 
apart  from  religious  prospects,  as  comparatively  hap- 
py, since  they  are  exempt  from  those  lingering  dis- 
eases and  slow  torments,  to  which  others  are  liable. 
We  cannot  see  an  individual  expire,  though  a  strang- 
er, or  an  enemy,  without  being  sensibly  moved,  and 
prompted  by  compassion  to  lend  him  every  assistance 
in  our  power.  Every  trace  of  resentment  vanishes 
in  a  moment :  every  other  emotion  gives  way  to  pity 
and  terror. 

2.  In  these  last  extremities,  we  remember  nothing 
but  the  respect  and  tenderness  due  to  our  common 
nature.  What  a  scene  then  must  a  field  of  battle 
present,  where  thousands  are  left  without  assistance, 
and  without  pity,  with  their  wounds  exposed  to  the 
piercing  air,  while  the  blood,  freezing  as  it  flows, 
binds  them  to  the  earth,  amidst  the  trampling  of 
horses,  and  the  insults  of  an  enraged  foe  ! 

3.  If  they  are  spared  by  the  humanity  of  the  en- 
emy, and  carried  from  the  field,  it  is  but  a  prolonga- 
tion of  torment.  Conveyed  in  uneasy  vehicles,  often 
to  a  remote  distance,  through  roads  almost  impassable, 
they  are  lodged  in  ill  prepared  receptacles  for  the 
bounded  and  the  sick,  where  the  variety  of  distres? 


106  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

baffles  all  the  efforts  of  humanity  and  skill,  and  ren- 
ders it  impossible  to  give  to  each  the  attention  he 
demands. 

4.  Far  from  their  native  home,  no  tender  assidu- 
ities of  friendship,  no  well  known  voice,  no  wife,  or 
mother,  or  sister,  is  near  to  sooth  their  sorrows, 
relieve  their  thirst,  or  close  their  eyes  in  death. 
Unhappy  man  !  and  must  you  be  swept  into  the  grave 
unnoticed  and  unnumbered,  and  no  friendly  tear  to  be 
shed  for  your  sufferings,  or  mingled  with  your  dust  ! 

5.  We  must  remember,  however,  that  as  a  very 
small  portion  of  a  military  life  is  spent  in  actual  com- 
bat, so  it  is  a  very  small  part  of  its  miseries,  which 
must  be  ascribed  to  this  source.  More  are  consumed 
by  the  rust  of  inactivity  than  by  the  edge  of  the 
sword  ;  confined  to  a  scanty  or  unwholesome  diet,  ex- 
posed in  sickly  climates,  harassed  with  tiresome 
marches  and  perpetual  alarms ;  their  life  is  a  contin- 
ual scene  of  hardships  and  dangers.  They  grow  fa- 
miliar with  hunger,  cold,  and  watchfulness.  Crowd- 
ed into  hospitals  and  prisons,  contagion  spreads 
amongst  their  ranks,  till  the  ravages  of  disease  ex- 
ceed those  cf  the  enemy. 

6.  We  have  hitherto  only  adverted  to  the  suffer- 
ings of  those  who  are  engaged  in  the  profession  of 
arms,  without  taking  into  our  account  the  situation  of 
the  countries  which  are  the  scene  of  hostilities.  How 
dreadful  to  hold  every  thing  at  the  mercy  of  an  en- 
ercry,  and  to  receive  life  itself  as  a  boon  dependent 
on  the  sword.  How  boundless  the  fears  which  such 
a  situation  must  inspire,  where  the  issues  of  life  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  107 

death  are  determined  by  no  known  laws,  principles, 
or  customs,  and  no  conjecture  can  be  formed  of  our 
destiny,  except  as  far  as  it  is  dimly  decyphered  in 
characters  of  blood,  in  the  dictates  of  revenge,  and 
the  caprices  of  power. 

7.  Conceive  but  for  a  moment  the  consternation 
which  the  approach  of  an  invading  army  would  im- 
press on  the  peaceful  villages  in  this  neighbourhood. 
When  you  have  placed  yourselves  for  an  instant  in 
that  situation,  you  will  learn  to  sympathize  with  those 
unhappy  countries  which  have  sustained  the  ravages 
of  arms. 

8.  But  how  is  it  possible  to  give  you  an  idea  of 
these  horrors  ?  Here  you  behold  rich  harvests,  the 
bounty  of  Heaven,  and  the  reward  of  industry,  con- 
sumed in  a  moment,  or  trampled  under  foot,  while 
famine  and  pestilence  follow  the  steps  of  desolation, 
There  the  cottages  of  peasants  given  up  to  the  flames, 
mothers  expiring  through  fear,  not  for  themselves 
but  their  infants ;  the  inhabitants  flying  with  their 
helpless  babes  in  all  directions,  miserable  fugitives 
on  their  native  soil ! 

9.  In  another  part  you  witness  opulent  cities  taken 
by  storm ;  the  streets,  where  no  sounds  were  heard 
but  those  of  peaceful  industry,  filled  on  a  sudden  with 
slaughter  and  blood,  resounding  with  the  cries  of  the 
pursuing  and  the  pursued;  the  palaces  of  nobles  de- 
molished, the  houses  of  the  rich  pillaged,  the  chas- 
tity of  virgins  and  of  matrons  violated,  and  every  age, 
sex,  and  rankf  mingled  in  promiscuous  massacre  and 
win. 


108  THE    CHRISTIAN    OB  A  TOR. 

PEACE    AND    WAR    CONTRASTED. 

From  the  same. 

1.  The  morality  of  peaceful  times  is  directly  op- 
posite to  the  maxims  of  war.  The  fundamental  rule 
of  the  first  is  to  do  good  ;  of  the  latter,  to  inflict  in- 
juries. The  former  commands  us  to  succour  the  op- 
pressed ;  the  latter  to  overwhelm  the  defenceless. 
The  former  teaches  men  to  love  their  enemies ;  the 
latter  to  make  themselves  terrible  to  strangers. 

2.  The  rules  of  morality  will  not  suffer  us  to  pro- 
mote the  dearest  interest  by  falsehood  ;  the  maxims 
of  war  applaud  it  when  employed  in  the  destruction 
of  others.  That  a  familiarity  with  such  maxims  must 
tend  to  harden  the  heart,  as  well  as  to  pervert  the 
moral  sentiments,  is  too  obvious  to  need  illustration. 

S.  The  natural  consequence  of  their  prevalence  is 
an  unfeeling  and  unprincipled  ambition,  with  an  idol- 
atry of  talents  and  a  contempt  of  virtue  ;  whence  the 
esteem  of  mankind  is  turned  from  the  humble,  the 
beneficent,  and  the  good,  to  men  who  are  qualified  by 
a  genius  fertile  in  expedients,  a  courage  that  is  never 
appalled,  and  a  heart  that  never  pities,  to  become  the 
destroyers  of  the  earth. 

4.  While  the  philanthropist  is  devising  means  to 
mitigate  the  evils  and  augment  the  happiness  of  the 
world,  a  fellow  worker  together  with  God,  in  explor- 
ing and  giving  effect  to  the  benevolent  tendencies  of 
nature  ;  the  warrior  is  revolving,  in  the  gloomy  re- 
cesses of  his  capacious  mind,  plans  of  future  devasta- 
tion and  ruin. 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  109 

5.  Prisons  crowded  with  captives,  cities  emptied 
of  their  inhabitants,  fields  desolate  and  waste,  are 
among  his  proudest  trophies.  The  fabrick  of  his 
fame  is  cemented  with  tears  and  blood;  and  if  his 
name  is  wafted  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  it  is  in  the 
shrill  cry  of  suffering  humanity ;  in  the  curses  and 
imprecations  of  those  whom  his  sword  has  reduced 
to  despair. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  EUROPEAN  WAR. 

From  the  same. 
part  i. 

1.  To  acknowledge  the  hand  of  God  is  a  duty  in- 
deed at  all  times  ;  but  there  are  seasons  when  it  is 
made  so  bare,  that  it  is  next  to  impossible,  and  there* 
fore  signally  criminal,  to  overlook  it.  It  is  almost 
unnecessary  to  add  that  the  present  is  one  of  those 
seasons. 

2.  If  ever  we  are  expected  to  be  still,  and  know 
that  he  is  God,  it  is  on  the  present  occasion,  after  a 
crisis  so  unexampled  in  the  annals  of  the  world  ; 
during  which,  scenes  have  been  disclosed,  and  events 
have  arisen,  so  much  more  astonishing  than  any  that 
history  had  recorded  or  romance  had  feigned,  that  we 
are  compelled  to  lose  sight  of  human  agency,  and  to 
behold  the  Deity  acting  as  it  were  apart  and  alone. 

3.  The  contest  in  which  we  have  been  lately  en- 
gaged is  distinguished  from  all  others  in  modern  time? 
by  the  number  of  nations  it  embraced,  and  the  ani- 
mosity with  which  it  was  conducted.     Making  its  first 

K 


110  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

appearance  in  the  centre  of  the  civilized  world,  like  a 
fire  kindled  in  the  thickest  part  of  a  forest,  it  spread 
during  ten  years  on  every  side ;  it  burnt  in  all  direc- 
tions, gathering  fresh  fury  in  its  progress,  till  it  in- 
wrapped  the  whole  of  Europe  in  its  flames  !  an  awful 
spectacle  not  only  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  but 
in  the  eyes  of  superior  beings  ! 

4.  What  place  can  we  point  out  to  which  its  effects 
have  not  extended  ?  Where  is  the  nation,  the  family, 
the  individual,  I  might  almost  say,  who  has  not  felt 
its  influence  ?  It  is  not,  my  brethren,  the  termination 
of  an  ordinary  contest,  which  we  are  assembled  this 
day  to  commemorate  ;  it  is  an  event  which  includes 
for  the  present  (may  it  long  perpetuate)  the  tran- 
quillity of  Europe  and  the  pacification  of  the  world. 

5.  We  are  met  to  express  our  devout  gratitude  to 
God  for  putting  a  period  to  a  war,  the  most  eventful 
perhaps  that  has  been  witnessed  for  a  thousand  years, 
a  war  which  has  transformed  the  face  of  Europe,  and 
removed  the  land-marks  of  nations  and  limits  of 
empire. 

FART   II. 

1.  The  war  in  which  so  great  a  part  of  the  world 
was  lately  engaged  has  been  frequently  styled  a 
war  of  principle.  This  was  indeed  its  exact  charac- 
ter ;  and  it  was  this  which  rendered  it  so  violent  and 
obstinate. 

2.  Disputes  which  are  founded  merely  on  passion 
or  on  interest,  are  comparatively  of  short  duration. 
They  are,  at  least,  not  calculated  to  spread.  How- 
ever they  may  inflame  the  principals,  they  are  but 
little  adapted  to  gain  partisans. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  Ill 

3.  To  render  them  durable,  there  must  be  an  in- 
fusion of  speculative  opinions.  For,  corrupt  as  men 
are,  they  are  yet  so  much  the  creatures  of  reflection, 
and  so  strongly  addicted  to  sentiments  of  right  and 
wrong,  that  their  attachment  to  a  public  cause  can 
rarely  be  secured,  nor  their  animosity  be  kept  alive, 
unless  their  understandings  are  engaged  by  some  ap- 
pearances of  truth  and  rectitude.  Hence  speculative 
differences  in  religion  and  politics  become  rallying 
points  to  the  passions. 

4.  Whoever  reflects  on  the  civil  wars  between  ihe 
Guelphs  and  the  Ghibbelines,  or  the  adherents  of  the 
Pope  and  the  Emperor,  which  distracted  Italy  and 
Germany  in  the  middle  ages  :  or  those  betwixt  the 
houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, wTill  find  abundant  confirmation  of  this  re- 
mark. 

5.  This  is  well  understood  by  the  leaders  of  par- 
ties in  all  nations  ;  who,  though  they  frequently  aim 
at  nothing  more  than  the  attainment  of  power,  yet 
always  contrive  to  cement  the  attachment  of  their 
followers,  by  mixing  some  speculative  opinion  with 
their  contests,  well  knowing  that  what  depends  for 
support  merely  on  the  irascible  passions  soon  sub- 
sides. 

6.  Then  does  party  animosity  reach  its  height, 
when  to  an  interference  of  interests  sufficient  to  kin- 
dle resentment,  is  superadded  a  persuasion  of  recti- 
tude, a  conviction  of  truth,  an  apprehension  in  each 
party  that  they  are  contending  for  principles  of  the 
last  importance,  on  the  success  of  which  the  happi- 
ness of  millions  depends, 


112  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

7.  Under  these  impressions  men  are  apt  to  indulge 
the  most  seltish  and  vindictive  passions  without  sus- 
picion or  control.  The  understanding  indeed,  in  that 
state,  instead  of  controlling  the  passions,  often  serves 
only  to  give  steadiness  to  their  impulse,  to  ratify  and 
consecrate,  so  to  speak,  all  their  movements. 

8.  When  we  apply  these  remarks  to  the  late  con- 
test, we  can  be  at  no  loss  to  discover  the  source  of 
the  unparalleled  animosity  which  inflamed  it.  Never 
before  were  so  many  opposing  interests,  passions, 
and  principles,  committed  to  such  a  decision. 

9.  On  one  side  an  attachment  to  the  ancient  order 
of  things,  on  the  other  a  passionate  desire  of  change  ; 
a  wish  in  some  to  perpetuate,  in  others  to  destroy  ev- 
ery thing  ;  every  abuse  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the  for- 
mer ;  every  foundation  attempted  to  be  demolished  by 
the  latter  ;  a  jealousy  of  power  shrinking  from  the 
slightest  innovation  ;  pretensions  to  freedom  pushed  to 
madness  and  anarchy  ;  superstition  in  all  its  dotage, 
impiety  in  all  its  fury  ;  whatever,  in  short,  could  be 
found  most  discordant  in  the  principles,  or  violent  in 
the  passions  of  men,  were  the  fearful  ingredients 
which  the  hand  of  Divine  justice  selected  to  mingle 
in  this  furnace  of  wrath. 

10.  Can  we  any  longer  wonder  at  the  desolations 
it  made  in  the  earth  ?  Great  as  they  are,  they  are 
no  more  than  might  be  expected  from  the  peculiar 
nature  of  the  warfare.  When  we  take  this  into  our 
consideration,  we  are  no  longer  surprised  to  find  that 
the  variety  of  its  battles  burdens  the  memory,  that 
the  imagination  is  perfectly  fatigued  in  travelling 
-iver  Its  scenes  of  slaughter,  and  that  falling,  like  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  113 

mistic  star  in  the  Apocalypse,  upon  the  streams  and 
the  rivers,  it  turned  the  third  part  of  their  waters  into 
blood. 


THE    Sx'LENDOR    OF    WAR    AN  OBSTACLE  TO  ITS  EXTINCTION. 

From  a  Sermon  of  the  Rev  T.  Chalmers  delivered  in  Glas- 
gow, Jan  1816,  on  a  day  of  National  Thanksgiving1  for  the 
Restoration  of  Peace. 

1.  The  first  great  obstacle  then  to  the  extinction 
of  war  is  the  way  in  which  the  heart  of  man  is  carried 
off  from  its  barbarities  and  its  horrors,  by  the  splen- 
dor of  its  deceitful  accompaniments.  There  is  a 
feeling  of  the  sublime  in  contemplating  the  shock  of 
armies,  just  as  there  is  in  contemplating  the  devour- 
ing energy  of  a  tempest,  and  this  so  elevates  and  en- 
grosses the  whole  man,  that  his  eye  is  blind  to  the 
tears  of  bereaved  parents,  and  his  ear  is  deaf  to  the 
piteous  moan  of  the  dying,  and  the  shriek  of  their 
desolated  families. 

2.  There  is  a  gracefulness  in  the  picture  of  a  youth- 
ful warrior  burning  for  distinction  on  the  field,  and  lur- 
ed by  this  generous  aspiration  to  the  deepest  of  the 
animated  throng,  where,  in  the  fell  work  of  death, 
the  opposing  sons  of  valor  struggle  for  a  remem- 
brance and  a  name  ;  and  this  side  of  the  picture  is  so 
much  the  exclusive  object  of  our  regard,  as  to  dis- 
guise from  our  view  the  mangled  carcasses  of  the  fal- 
len, and  the  writhing  agonies  of  the  hundreds  and  the 
hundreds  more  who  have  been  laid  on  the  cold 
ground,   where  they  are  left  to  languish  and  to  die. 

K  2 


114  illL    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

3.  There  net  eve  pities  them.  No  sister  is  there 
to  weep  over  them.  There  no  gentle  hand  is  pres- 
ent to  ease  the  dying  posture,  or  bind  up  the  wounds, 
which,  in  the  maddening  fury  of  the  combat,  have 
been  given  and  received  by  the  children  of  one  com- 
mon father.  There  death  spreads  its  pale  ensigns  over 
every  countenance,  and  when  night  comes  on,  and 
darkness  gathers  around  them,  how  many  a  despairing 
wretch  must  take  up  with  the  bloody  field  as  the  un- 
tended  bed  of  his  last  sufferings,  without  one  friend 
to  bear  the  message  of  tenderness  to  his  distant  home, 
without  one  companion  to  close  his  eyes. 

4.  I  avow  it.  On  every  side  of  me  I  see  causes  at 
work  which  go  to  spread  a  most  delusive  colouring 
over  war,  and  to  remove  its  shocking  barbarities  to 
the  back  ground  of  our  contemplations  altogether. 
I  see  it  in  the  history  which  tells  me  of  the  superb 
appearance  of  the  troops,  and  the  brilliancy  of  their 
successive  charges.  1  see  it  in  the  poetry  which  lends 
the  magic  of  its  numbers  to  the  narrative  of  blood, 
and  transports  its  many  admirers,  as,  by  its  images;  and 
its  figures,  and  its  nodding  plumes  of  chivalry,  it 
throws  its  treacherous  embellishments  over  a  scene 
of  legalized  slaughter. 

5.  I  see  it  in  the  music  which  represents  the  prog- 
ress of  the  battle  ;  and  where,  after  being  inspired  by 
the  trumpet-notes  of  preparation,  the  whole  beauty  and 
tenderness  of  a  drawing-room  are  seen  to  bend  over 
the  sentimental  entertainment ;  nor  do  I  hear  the  ut- 
terance of  a  single  sigh  to  interrupt  the  death-tones 
of  the  thickening  contest,  and  the  moans  of  the  wound- 
ed men  as  they  fade  away  upon  the  ear,  and  sink  into 
lifeless  silence. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  115 

6.  All,  all  goes  to  prove  what  strange  and  half- 
sighted  creatures  we  are.  Were  it  not  so,  war  could 
never  have  been  seen  in  any  other  aspect  than  that 
of  unmingled  hatefulness;  and  I  can  look  to  nothing 
but  to  the  progress  of  Christian  sentiment  upon  earth, 
to  arrest  the  strong  current  of  its  popular  and  pre- 
vailing partiality  for  war.  Then  only  will  an  impe- 
rious sense  of  duty  lay  the  check  of  severe  principle, 
on  all  the  subordinate  tastes  and  faculties  of  our  na- 
ture. Then  will  glory  be  reduced  to  its  right  esti- 
mate, and  the  wakeful  benevolence  of  the  gospel, 
chasing  away  every  spell,  will  be  devoted  to  simple 
"but  sublime  enterprises  for  the  good  of  the  species. 


THE    HOLY    LEAGUE. 

Interesting  State-Paper.* 

j.  In  the  name  of  the  Holy  and  Indivisible  Trinity, 
Their  Majesties,  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  the  King 
of  Prussia,  and  Emperor  of  Russia,  in  consequence  of 
the  great  events  which  have  distinguished  Europe,  in 
the  course  of  the  three  last  years,  and  especially  of 
the  blessings  which  it  has  pleased  Divine  Providence 
to  shed  upon  those  states  whose  governments  have 
placed  their  confidence  and  their  hope  in  it  alone, 
having  acquired  the  thorough  conviction,  that  it  is 
necessary  for  ensuring  their  continuance,  that  the 
several  powers,  in  their  mutual  relations,  adopt  the 

*  This  document  is  thought  to  be  of  such  importance,  that 
we  insert  it  in  this  book,  though  not  in  exact  accordance 
with  its  design  We  do  it  that  it  may  be  preserved  and 
read,  and  become  familiar  to  the  youth'of  our  country— and 
its  influence  be  universally  diffused  among  our  citizen's. 


116  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

sublime   truths   which   are  pointed  out  to  us  by  the 
eternal  religion  of  the  Saviour  God  ; 

2.  Declare  solemnly  that  the  present  act  has  no 
other  object  than  to  show  in  the  face  of  the  universe 
their  unwavering  determination  to  adopt  for  the  onlj 
rule  of  their  conduct,  both  in  the  administration  of 
their  respective  states,  and  in  their  political  relations 
with  every  other  government,  the  precepts  of  this 
holy  religion,  the  precepts  of  justice,  of  charity,  and 
of  peace,  which,  far  from  being  solely  applicable  to 
private  life,  ought,  on  the  contrary,  directly  to  in- 
fluence the  resolutions  of  princes,  and  to  guide  all 
their  undertakings  as  being  the  only  means  of  giv- 
ing stability  to  human  institutions,  and  of  remedying 
their  imperfections. 

3.  Their  majesties  have  therefore  agreed  to  the 
following  articles. 

Art.  I.  In  conformity  with  the  words  of  the  holy 
Scriptures,  which  command  all  men  to  regard  one 
another  as  brethren,  the  three  contracting  monarchs 
will  remain  united  by  the  bonds  of  a  true  and  indisso- 
luble fraternity,  and  considering  each  other  as  co- 
patriots,  they  will  lend  one  another  on  every  occa- 
sion, and  in  every  place,  assistance,  aid,  and  support; 
and  regarding  their  subjects  and  armies,  as  the  fath- 
ers of  their  families,  they  will  govern  them  in  the 
spirit  of  fraternity  with  which  they  are  animated, 
for  the  protection  of -religion,  peace  and  justice. 

4.  Art.  II.  Therefore,  the  only  governing  princi- 
ple between  the  above  mentioned  governments  and 
their  subjects,  shall  be  that  of  rendering  reciprocal 
services  ;  of  testifying  by  an  unalterable  beneficence 
the  mutual  affection  with  which  they  ought  to  be  an- 


THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  117 

imated ;  of  considering  all  as  only  the  members  of 
one  Christian  nation,  the  three  allied  princes  looking, 
upon  themselves  as  delegated  by  Providence  to  gov- 
ern three  branches  of  the  same  family;  to  wit:  Aus- 
tria, Prussia,  and  Russia ; 

5.  Confessing  likewise  that  the  Christian  nation,  of 
which  they  and  their  people  form  a  part,  have  really 
ao  other  sovereign  than  Him,  to  whom  alone  power 
belongs  of  right,  because  in  him  alone  are  found  all 
the  treasures  of  love,  of  science  and  of  wisdom;  that 
is  to  say,  God  our  Divine  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  the 
word  of  the  Most  High,  the  word  of  life.  Their  Maj- 
esties therefore  recommend,  with  the  most  tender 
solicitude,  to  their  people,  as  the  only  means  of  en- 
joying that  peace  which  springs  from  a  good  con- 
science, and  which  alone  is  durable,  to  fortify  them- 
selves every  day  more  and  more  in  the  principles 
and  exercise  of  the  duties,  which  the  divine  Saviour 
has  pointed  out  to  us. 

6.  Art.  III.  All  powers  which  wish  solemnly  to 
profess  the  sacred  principles  which  have  dictated 
this  act,  and  who  shall  acknowledge  how  important 
it  is  to  the  happiness  of  nations,  too  long  disturbed, 
that  these  truths  shall  henceforth  exercise  upon  hu- 
man destinies,  all  the  influence  which  belongs  to 
them,  shall  be  received  with  as  much  Teadiness  as 
affection,  into  this  holy  alliance. 

7.  Made  tripartite,  and  signed  at  Paris,  in  the  year 
of  our  Lord,  1815,  on  the  14th  (26)  of  September. 

Francis,  Frederic  William,  Alexander. 

A  true  copy  of  the  Original. Alexander. 

St.  Petersburg^  the  day  of  the  birth  of  our  Saviour 
the  25th  of  December,  1815. 


118  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Speeches  on  Infidelity. 

CONCISE    HISTORY    OF    FRENCH    INFIDELITY. 

From  Dr.  Dwight's  Sermon  on  the  public  Fast,  July  23, 1812. 

1.  About  the  year  1728,  the  great  era  of  Infidelity, 
Voltaire  formed  a  set  design  to  destroy  the  Christian 
religion.  For  this  purpose  he  engaged,  at  several 
succeeding  period's,  a  number  of  men,  distinguished 
for  power,  talents,  reputation,  and  influence ;  all 
deadly  enemies  to  the  Gospel';  atheists;  men  of 
profligate  principles,  and  profligate  lives. 

2.  They  inserted  themselves  into  every  place, 
office,  and  employment,  in  which  their  agency  might 
become  efficacious,  and  which  funvr'ied  an  opportu- 
nity of  spreading  their  corruptions.  They  were 
found  in  every  literary  institution  from  the  Abeceda- 
rian school,  to  the  Academy  of  Sciences  ;  and  in  ev- 
ery civil  office,  from  that  of  the  bailiff,  to  that  of  the 
monarch. 

3.  With  a  diligence,  courage,  constancy,  activity, 
and  perseverance,  which  might  rival  the  efforts  of 
demons  themselves,  they  penetrated  into  every  cor- 
ner of  human  society.  Scarcely  a  man,  woman,  or 
child,  was  left  unassailed,  wherever  there  was  a  sin- 
gle hope,  that  the  attack  might  be  successful. 

4.  Books  were  written,  and  published,  in  innume- 
rable multitudes,  in  which  infidelity  was  brought 
down  to  the  level  of  peasants,  and  even  of  children  ; 
and  poured  with  immense  assiduity  into  the  cottage, 
and  the  school.  Others  of  a  superior  kind,  crept 
into  the  shop,  and  the  farmhouse ;  and  othen  of  a 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  119 

still  higher  class,  found  their  way  to  the   drawing 
room,  the  university,  and  the  palace. 

5.  A  sensual,  profligate  nobility,  and  princes,  if 
possible  still  more  sensual  and  profligate,  easily  yield- 
ed themselves,  and  their  children,  into  the  hands  of 
these  minions  of  corruption. 

6.  With  these  was  combined  a  priesthood,  which, 
in  all  its  dignified  ranks,  was  still  more  putrid  ;  and 
which  eagerly  yielded  up  the  surplice  and  the  lawn, 
the  desk  and  the  altar,  to  destroy  that  Bible,  which 
they  had  vowed  to  defend,  as  well  as  to  preach ; 
and  to  renew  the  crucifixion  of  that  Redeemer, 
whom  they  had  sworn  to  worship. 

7.  By  these  agents,  and  these  efforts,  the  plague 
was  spread  with  a  rapidity,,  and  to  an  extent,  which 
astonished  heaven  and  earth  :  and  life  went  out,  not 
in  solitary  cases,  but  by  an  universal  extinction. 


BRIEF    ACCOUNT    OF    ILLUMINISM. 

From  the  same. 

1.  The  Illuminees  were  Atheists,  who,  previous  to 
ihe  French  revolution,  were  secretly  associated  in 
every  part  of  Europe,  with  the  view  of  destroying  re- 
ligion, and  of  engrossing  to  themselves  the  govern- 
ment of  mankind.  Dr.  Adam  Weishaupt,  Professor 
of  the  Canon  Law,  in  the  University  of  Ingoldstadt  in 
Bavaria,  established  he  Society  of  Illuminees. 

2.  They  were  distinguished  beyond  every  other 
class  of  men,  for  cunning,  mischief,  an  absolute  des- 
titution of  conscience,  an  absolute  disregard  of  all 


r< 


120  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

the  interests  of  man,  and  a  torpid  insensibility  to  mor- 
al obligation.  No  fraternity,  for  so  long  a  time,  or 
to  so  great  an  extent,  united  within  its  pale  such  at 
mass  of  talents ;  or  employed  in  its  service  such  a 
succession  of  vigorous  efforts. 

3.  Their  doctrines  were,  that  God  is  nothing ;  that 
government  is  a  curse,  and  authority  an  usurpation ; 
that  civil  society  is  the  only  apostasy  of  man  ;  that  the 
possession  of  property  is  robbery  ;  that  chastity  and  nat- 
ural affection,  are  mere  prejudices  ;  and  that  adultery^ 
assassination,  poisoning,  and  other  crimes  of  a  similar 
nature,  are  lawful,  and  even  virtuous. 

4.  Societies  holding  these  abominable  doctrines 
spread  with  a  rapidity,  which  nothing  but  fact  couljj, 
have  induced  any  sober  mind  to  believe.  Before 
the  year  1786,  they  were  established  in  great  num- 
bers throughout  Germany,  in  Sweden,  Russia,  Poland, 
Austria,  Holland,  France,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Etngland, 
Scotland,  and  even  in  America. 

5.  Voltaire  died  in  the  year  following  the  estab- 
lishment of  Illuminism.  His  disciples  with  one  heart, 
and  one  voice,  united  in  its  interests  ;  and,  finding  a 
more  absolute  system  of  corruption  than  themselves 
had  been  able  to  form,  entered  eagerly  into  all  its 
plans  and  purposes.  Thenceforward,  therefore,  all 
the  legions  of  infidelity  were  embarked  in  a  single 
bottom  ;  and  cruised  together  against  order,  peac£,  and 
virtue.  When  the  French  revolution  burst  upon 
mankind,  an  ample  field  was  opened  for  the  labors 
of  these  abandoned  men.   . 

6.  Had  not  God  taken  the  wise  in  their  own  crafti- 
ness, and  caused  the  wicked  to  fall  into  the  pit  which 
they  digged,   and  into  the  snares  which  their  hands  had 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  121 

set ;  it  is  impossible  to  conjecture  the  extent  to  which 
they  would  have  carried  their  devastation  of  human 
happiness.  But,  like  the  profligate  rulers  of  Israel, 
those  who  succeeded,  regularly  destroyed  their  pre- 
decessors. 

7.  The  spirit  of  infidelity  has  the  heart  of  a  wolf, 
the  fangs  of  a  tiger,  and  the  talons  of  a  vulture.  Blood 
is  its  proper  nourishment :  and  it  scents  its  prey  with 
the  nerves  of  a  hound,  and  cowers  over  a  field  of  death 
on  the  sooty  pinions  of  a  fiend.  Unlike  all  other  an- 
imals of  prey,  it  feeds  upon  its  own  kind  ;  and,  when 
glutted  with  the  blood  of  others,  turns  back  upon  these, 
who  have  been  its  coadjutors. 
►  8.  Between  ninety  and  one  hundred  of  those,  who 
were  leaders  in  this  mighty  work  of  destruction,  fell 
by  the  hand  of  violence.  Enemies  to  all  men,  they 
were  of  course  enemies  to  each  other.  Butchers  of 
the  human  race,  they  soon  whetted  the  knife  for  each 
others  throats  :  and  the  tremendous  Being,  who  rules 
the  universe,  whose  existence  they  had  denied  in  a 
solemn  act  of  legislation,  whose  perfections  they  had 
made  the  butt  of  public  scorn  and  private  insult,  whose 
Son  they  had  crucified  afresh,  and  whose  word  they 
had  burnt  by  the  hands  of  the  common  hangman  ; 
swept  them  all  by  the  hand  of  violence  into  an  un- 
timely  grave. 

9r*The  jtale  made  every  ear,  which  heard  it.  tingle, 
and  every  heart  chill  with  horror.  It  was,  m  the  lan- 
guage of  Ossian,  "  the  song  of  death."  It  wars  like  the 
reign  of  the  plague  in  a  populous  city.  Knell  tolled 
upon  knell ;  hearse  followed  hearse  ;  and  coffin  runv 
bled  after  coffin ;  without  a  mourner  to  shed  a  tear  upon 
L 


122  IHL    CJUtlSTIAN     ORATOR. 

the  corpse,  or  a  solitary  attendant  to  mark  the  place  of 
the  grave.  From  one  mw  moon  to  another,  and  from 
one  sabbath  to  another,  the  world  went  forth  and  looked 
after  the  carcasses  of  the  men,  who  transgressed  against 
God  ;  and  they  were  an  abhorring  unto  all  flesh. 


THE    PUNISHMENT    OF    AN    INFIDEL    K  ATI  Oil. 

From  a  Sermon  of  Rev.  R.  Hall. 

1.  The  scenes  which  have  lately  been  presented 
to  you  furnish  the  most  awful  and  momentous  in- 
struction. From  them  you  will  learn,  that  the  safety 
of  nations  is  not  to  be  sought  in  arts  or  in  arms  ;  that  ♦ 
science  may  flourish  amidst  the  decay  of  humanity; 
that  the  utmost  barbarity  may  be  blended  with  the  ut- 
most refinement;  that  a  passion  for  speculation,  unre- 
strained by  the  fear  of  God  and  a  deep  sense  of  human 
imperfection,  merely  hardens  the  heart :  and  that  as 
religion,  in  short,  is  the  great  tamer  of  the  breast,  the 
source  of  tranquillity  and  order,  so  the  crimes  of  volup- 
tuousness and  impiety  inevitably  conduct  a  people,  be- 
fore they  are  aware,  to  the  brink  of  desolation  and 
anarchy. 

2.  If  you  had  wished  to  figure  to  yourselves  ?i 
country  which  had  reached  the  utmost  pinnacle  of 
prosperity,  you  would  undoubtedly  have  turned  your 
eyes  to  France,  as  she  appeared  a  few  years  before 
the  revolution  ;  illustrious  in  learning  and  genius;' 
the  favourite  abode  of  the  arts,  and  the  mirror  of 
fashion,  whither  the  flower  of  the  nobility  from  all 
countries  resorted,  to  acquire  the  last  polish  of  which  . 
the  human  character  is  susceptible, 


LHE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

3.  Lulled  in  voluptuous  repose,  and  dreaming  of  a 
philosophical  millennium,  without  dependence  upon 
God.,  like  the  generation  before  the  flood,  ihey  ate, 
they  drank,  they  married,  they  were  given  in  marriage. 
In  that  exuberant  soil  every  thing  seemed  tc  flourish, 
but  religion  and  virtue. 

4.  The  season,  however,  was  at  length  arrived, 
when  God  was  resolved  to  punish  their  impiety,  as 
well  as  to  avenge  the  blood  of  his  servants,  whose 
souls  had  for  a  century  been  incessantly  crying  to  him 
from  under  the  altar.  And  what  method  did  he  em- 
ploy for  this  purpose  ?  When  he  to  whom  vengeance 
belongs,  when  he  whose  ways  are  unsearchable,  and 
whose  wisdom  is  inexhaustible,  proceeded  to  the  ex- 
ecution of  this  strange  work,  he  drew  from  his  treas- 
ures a  weapon  he  had  never  employed  before. 

5.  Resolving  to  make  their  punishment  as  signal 
as  their  crimes,  he  neither  let  loose  an  inundation  of 
barbarous  n  .'ions,  nor  the  desolating  powers  of  the 
universe  :  he  neither  overwhelmed  them  with  earth- 
quakes, nor  visited  them  with  pestilence.  He  sum- 
moned from  among  themselves  a  ferocity  more  terri- 
ble than  either ;  a  ferocity  which,  mingling  in  the 
struggle  for  liberty,  and  borrowing  aid  from  that  very 
refinement  to  which  it  seemed  to  be  opposed,  turned 
every  man's  hand  against  his  neighbour,  and  sparing 
no  age,  nor  sex,  nor  rank,  till  satiated  with  the  ruin  of 
greatness,  th£  distresses  of  innocence,  and  the  tears 
of  beauty,  it  terminated  its  career  in  the  most  un- 
relenting despotism. 

6.  Thou  art  righteous,  0  Lord,  which  art,  and  which 
was,   and  which  shall  be,  because  thou  hast  judged  thus,') 


124  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

for  they  have  shed  the  blood  of  saints  and  prophets,  and 
thou  hast  given  them  blood  to  drink,  for  they  arc  worthy. 


THE    FOLLY    OF    INFIDELITY. 

From  Dr.  D wight's   Sermon  at  tlie  Ordination  of  Mr. 

Taylor.     1812. 

1.  Educated  infidels  covet  the  character  of  men 
of  taste  ;  and  boast  of  possessing  it  in  a  superior  degree. 
The  primary  objects  of  taste  are  novelty,  grandeur, 
beauty  and  benevolence.  The  three  former  are  ex- 
tensively diffused  over  the  natural  world  ;  the  moral 
world  is  replenished  with  them  all. 

2.  The  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  natural  world  , 
the  beauty  of  the  landscape,  and  of  the  sky ;  the 
grandeur  of  the  storm,  the  torrent,  the  thunder,  and 
»he  volcano  ;  the  magnificence  of  mountains,  and  the 
ocean  ;  and  the  sublimities  of  the  heavens  ;  may  un- 
doubtedly be  relished  by  the  mind  of  an  infidel,  as 
really  as  by  that  of  a  Christian.  But  how  insignificant 
are  even  these  splendid  scenes  of  nature,  if  the  uni- 
verse is  only  a  lifeless  mass;  a  corpse  devoid  of  an 
animating  principle  ? 

3.  How  changed  is  the  scene  ;  how  enhanced  the 
sublimity  ;  when  our  thoughts  discern,  that  an  infi- 
nite Mind  formed,  preserves,  controls,  a£#j,4tckens, 
the  whole  ;  that  this  mind  is  every  where*  present ; 
lives,  sees,  acts;  directs,  and  blesses  the  beings, 
whom  it  has  made  ;  that,  if  we  ascend  into  heaven,  God 
is  there  ;  if  we  go  do'wn  to  hell ;  lo,  He  is  there  !  if  we 
take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost 

even  there  his  hand  will  lead  us,  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  125 

his  right  hand  hold  us.  At  the  same  time,  how  in- 
finitely more  sublime  is  such  a  Mind,  than  all  the 
works,  which  it  has  created  ! 

4.  In  the  moral  world  the  loss  of  the  infidel  is  en- 
tire. Of  the  beauty  and  greatness  of  that  world 
they  form  no  conceptions.  For  these  objects  their 
taste  is  not  begun.  The  pleasures,  derived  from 
this  source,  are  the  privilege  only  of  minds,  which 
are  invested  with  moral  beauty,  and  adorned  with 
the  loveliness  of  the  GospeL 

5.  In  the  field  of  intellectual  enjoyment  they  are  not 
more  happy.  Their  learning  is  usually  mischievous 
to  them  ;  and  their  science,  of  no  value  :  for  both 
serve  only  to  inflate  them  with  pride,  and  estrange 
them  from  their  Maker. 

6.  What  is  the  world  in  the  eye  of  an  infidel  ?  A 
product  of  fate,  chance,  or  necessity ;  without  de- 
sign ;  without  government ;  without  a  God  :  its  in= 
habitants  born,  none  knows  why  ;  and  destined  to  go, 
none  knows  whither. 

7.  Of  duty,  virtue,  worship,  acceptance  with  God, 
and  the  rewards  of  obedience,  they  know,  and  choose 
to  know,  nothing.  To  them  the  moral  universe  is  a 
chaos.  The  Gospel,  looking  on  this  mass  of  confu- 
sion, has  said,  "  Let  there  be  light :"  and  there  is  light, 


CHRISTIANITY    CONTRASTED    WITH    INFIDELITY, 

From  R.  Hall's  Sermon  on  Infidelity.     1800. 
1.  Religion  being  primarily  intended  to  make  men 
wise  unto  salvation,  the  support  it  ministers  to  social 
order,  the  stability  it  confers  on   government   and 
L  2 


126  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

laws,  is  a  subordinate  species  of  advantage,  which  we 
should  have  continued  to  enjoy  without  reflecting  on 
its  cause,  but  for  the  development  of  deistical  prin- 
ciples, and  the  experiment  which  has  been  made  ol 
their  effects  in  a  neighbouring  country.* 

2.  It  had  been  the  constant  boast  of  infidels,  that 
their  system,  more  liberal  and  generous  than  Chris- 
tianity, needed  but  to  be  tried,  to  produce  an  im- 
mense accession  to  human  happiness  ;  and  christian 
nations,  careless  and  supine,  retaining  little  of  reli- 
gion but  the  profession,  and  disgusted  with  its  re- 
straints, lent  a  favourable  ear  to  these  pretensions. 

3.  God  permitted  the  trial  to  be  made :  in  one 
country,  and  that  the  centre  of  Christendom ;  rev- 
elation underwent  a  total  eclipse,t  while  atheism,  per- 
forming on  a  darkened  theatre  its  strange  and  fearful 
tragedy,  confounded  the  first  elements  of  society, 
blended  efery  age,  rank  and  sex,  in  indiscriminate 
proscription  and  massacre,  and  convulsed  all  Europe 
to  its  centre :  that  the  imperishable  memorial  of 
these  events  might  teach  the  last  generations  of  man- 
kind, to  consider  religion  as  the  pillar  of  society,  the 
safeguard  of  nations,  the  parent  of  social  order,  which 
alone  has  power  to  curb  the  fury  of  the  passions, 
and  secure  to  every  one  his  rights ;  to  the  labo- 
rious, the  reward  of  their  industry,  to  the  rich,  the 
enjoyment  of  their  wealth,  to  nobles,  the  preserva- 

*  France. 

|  It  is  worthy  of  attention  that  Mercier,  a  warm  advocate 
of  the  French  Revolution,  and  a  professed  deist,  in  his  recent 
work,  entitled  "  New  Paris,"  acknowledges  and  laments  the 
extinction  of  religion  in  France.  "  We  have,11  says  he,  u  in 
proscribing  superstition,  destroyed  all  religious  sentiment :  tut 
this  is  not  the  way  to  regenerate  the  world," 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  127 

tion  of  their  honors,  and  to  princes,  the  stability  of 
their  thrones. 

4.  We  might  ask  the  patrons  of  infidelity,  what  fu- 
ry impels  them  to  attempt  the  subversion  of  Christian- 
ity ?  Is  it  that  they  have  discovered  a  better  system? 
To  what  virtues  are  their  principles  favorable,  or  is 
there  one  which  christians  have  not  carried  to  a  high- 
er perfection  than  any  of  whom  their  party  can  boast  ? 
Have  they  discovered  a  more  excellent  rule  of  life, 
or  a  better  hope  in  death,  than  that  which  the  Scrip- 
tures suggest  ? 

5.  Above  all,  what  are  the  pretensions  on  wrhich 
they  rest  their  claims  to  be  the  guides  of  mankind ; 
or  which  embolden  them  to,  expect  that  we  should 
trample  upon  the  experience  of  ages,  and  abandon  a 
religion,  which  has  been  attested  by  a  train  of  mira- 
cles and  prophecies,  in  which  millions  of  our  fore- 
fathers have  found  a  refuge  in  every  trouble,  and 
consolation  in  the  hour  of  death ;  a  religion  which 
has  been  adorned  with  the  highest  sanctity  of  char- 
acter and  splendor  of  talents,  which  enrols  amongst 
its  disciples  the  names  of  Bacon,  Newton,  and  Locke, 
the  glory  of  their  species,  and  to  which  these  illus- 
trious men  were  proud  to  dedicate  the  last  and  best 
fruits  of  their  immortal  genius  ? 

6.  If  the  question  at  issue  is  to  be  decided  by  argu- 
ment, nothing  can  be  added  to  the  triumph  of  Chris- 
tianity; if  by  an  appeal  to  authority,  what  have  our 
adversaries  to  oppose  to  these  great  names  ? 

7.  Where  are  the  infidels  of  such  pure,  uncon- 
taminated  morals,  unshaken  probity,  and  extended 
benevolence,  that  we  should  be  in  danger  of  being 


123  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOH. 

sedfeed  into  impiety  by  their  example  ?  Into  what 
obslure  recesses  of  misery,  into  what  dungeons,  have 
.  their  philanthropists  penetrated  to  lighten  the  fetters, 
and  relieve  the  sorrows  of  the  helpless  captive  ? 
What  barbarous  tribes  have  their  apostles  visited, 
what  distant  climes  have  they  explored,  encompassed 
with  cold,  nakedness  and  want,  to  diffuse  principles 
of  virtue  and  the  blessings  of  civilization  ? 

8.  Or  will  they  rather  choose  to  wave  their  pre- 
tensions to  this  extraordinary,  and  in  their  eyes,  ec- 
centric species  of  benevolence,  (for  infidels,  we  know, 
are  sworn  enemies  to  enthusiasm  of  every  sort)  and 
rest  their  character  on  their  political  exploits,  on 
their  efforts  to  reanimate  the  virtue  of  a  sinking  state, 
to  restrain  licentiousness,  to  calm  the  tumult  of  popu- 
lar fury,  and  by  inculcating  the  spirit  of  justice,  mod- 
eration, and  pity  for  fallen  greatness,  to  mitigate  the 
inevitable  horrors  of  revolution  ?  Our  adversaries 
will  at  least  have  the  discretion,  if  not  the  modesty, 
to  recede  from  this  test. 


INFLUENCE    OF    INFIDELITY    ON    MORALS. 

From  Rev.  Robert  Hall. 

1.  The  skeptical  or  irreligious  system  subverts  the 
whole  foundation  of  morals.  It  may  be  affirmed  as- 
a  maxim,  that  no  person  can  be  required  to  act  con- 
trary to  his  greatest  good,  or  his  highest  interest,  com- 
prehensively viewed  in  relation  to  the  whole  duration 
of  his  being.  It  is  often  our  duty  to  forego  our  own  in- 
terest partially ;  to  sacrifice  a  smaller  pleasure  for  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  129 

sake  of  a  greater;  to  incur  a  present  evil  in  pursuit  of 
a  distant  good  of  more'consequence  ;  in  a  word,  to  ar- 
bitrate, amongst  interfering  claims  of  inclination,  is  the 
moral  arithmetic  of  human  life.  But  to  risk  the  hap- 
piness of  the  whole  duration  of  our  being  in  any  case 
whatever,  admitting  it  to  be  possible,  would  be  foolish, 
because  the  sacrifice  must,  by  the  nature  of  it,  be  so 
great  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  compensation. 

2.  As  the  present  world,  upon  skeptical  principles, 
is  the  only  place  of  recompense,  whenever  the  prac- 
tice of  virtue  fails  to  promise  the  greatest  sum  of  pre- 
sent good,  cases  which  often  occur  in  reality,  and 
much  oftener  in  appearance,  every  motive  to  virtuous 
conduct  is  superseded,  a  deviation  from  rectitude  be- 
comes the  part  of  wisdom  ;  and  should  the  path  of 
virtue,  in  addition  to  this,  be  obstructed  hy  disgrace, 
torment  or  death,  to  persevere  would  be  madness  and 
folly,  and  a  violation  of  the  first  and  most  essential 
law  of  nature.  Virtue  on  these  principles,  being,  in 
numberless  instances,  at  war  with  self  preservation, 
never  can  or  ought  to  become  a  fixed  habit  on  the 
mind. 

3.  The  system  of  infidelity  is  not  only  incapable  of 
arming  virtue  for  great  and  trying  occasions ;  but 
leaves  it  unsupported  in  the  most  ordinary  occurren- 
ces. In  vain  will  its  advocates  appeal  to  a  moral 
sense,  to  benevolence  and  sympathy;  in  vain  will 
they  expatiate  on  the  tranquillity  and  pleasure  attendant 
on  a  virtuous  course  ;  for  it  is  undeniable  that  these  im- 
pulses may  be  overcome,  and  though  you  may  remind 
the  offender,  that  in  disregarding  them  he  has  violated 
his  nature,  and  that  a  conduct  consistent  with  them 


130  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

is  productive  of  much  internal  satisfaction  ;  yet,  if  he 
reply  that  his  taste  is  of  a  different  sort,  that  there 
are  other  gratifications  which  he  values  more,  and 
that  every  man  must  choose  his  own  pleasures,  the 
argument  is  at  an  end. 

4.  Rewards  and  punishments  awarded  hy  Omnipo- 
tent Power,  afford  a  palpable  and  pressing  motive, 
which  can  never  be  neglected  without  renouncing 
the  character  of  a  rational  creature  ;  but  tastes  and 
relishes  are  not  to  be  prescribed. 

5.  A  motive  in  which  the  reason  of  man  shall  ac- 
quiesce, enforcing  the  practice  of  virtue,  at  all  times 
and  seasons,  enters  into  the  very  essence  of  moral 
obligation  ;  modern  infidelity  supplies  no  such  mo- 
tive ;  it  is,  therefore,  essentially  and  infallibly,  a  sys- 
tem of  enervation,  turpitude  and  vice. 

6.  This  chasm  in  the  construction  of  morals,  can 
only  be  supplied  by  the  firm  belief  of  a  rewarding 
and  avenging  Deity,  who  binds  duty  and  happiness, 
though  they  may  seem  distant,  in  an  indissoluble 
chain,  without  which,  whatever  usurps  the  name  of 
virtue,  is  not  a  principle,  but  a  feeling,  not  a  deter- 
minate rule,  but  a  fluctuating  expedient,  varying  with 
the  tastes  of  individuals,  and  changing  with  the  s< 

of  life. 

7.  Nor  is  this  the  only  way  in  which  infidelity  sub- 
verts the  foundation  of  morals.  All  reasoning  on 
morals,  presupposes  a  distinction  betwixt  inclinations 
and  duties,  affections  and  rules  :  the  former  prompt, 
the  latter  prescribe  ;  the  former  supply  motives  to 
action,  the  latter  regulate  and  control  it.  Hence,  it  is 
evident,   if  virtue  has   any  just  claim  to  authority,  it 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  131 

must  be  under  the  latter  of  these  notions,  that  is,  un- 
der the  character  of  a  law.  It  is  under  this  notion 
in  fact,  that  its  dominion  has  ever  been  acknowledged 
to  be  paramount  and  supreme, 

8.  But  without  the  intervention  of  a  superior  will, 
it  is  impossible  there  should  be  any  moral  laws  ex- 
cept in  the  lax,  metaphorical  sense,  in  which  we  speak 
of  the  laws  of  matter  and  motion  :  men  being  essen- 
tially equal,  morality  is,  on  these  principles,  only  a 
stipulation  or  silent  compact,  into  which  every  man 
is  supposed  to  enter,  as  far  as  suits  his  convenience, 
and  for  the  breach  of  which  he  is  accountable  to 
nothing  but  his  own  mind.  His  own  mind  is  his  law, 
his  tribunal  and  his  judge, 


STATE    OF    FRANCE   AT    THE    COMMENCEMENT    OF    HER  REV- 
OLUTION,    1794. 

From  Obeirne's  Fast  Sermon. 

1.  From  the  day  that  the  spirit  of  innovation  first 
seized  and  put  in  motion  the  great  mass  of  the  peo- 
ple, all  that  was  base,  profligate,  and  vicious  amongst 
them,  has  been  rapidly  working  up  to  the  suppres- 
sion of  whatever  was  left  of  religion,  virtue,  honor, 
justice,  or  equity,  yet  uncorrupt  and  untainted. 

2.  Instead  of  those  grave  and  solemn  deliberations, 
those  dignified  and  energetic  councils,  those  cool, 
steady,  and  magnanimous  exertions  that  have  distin- 
guished such  revolutions  as  have  given  freedom, 
with  all  its  blessings,  to  an  oppressed  people,  all  the 
mean  passions,  and  sordid  propensities  of  our  degen- 


132  THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 

» 
crate  nature,  were  immediately  brought  into  alliance 

with  the  usurping  power.     The  reins  were  instantly 

thrown  loose  to  licentiousness,  and  the  very  dregs  of 

the  people  brought  forward,  as  the  only  instruments 

that  could  be  employed  with  effect  in  such  a  cause. 

3.  All  authority  was  declared  to  be  an  usurpation 
on  their  rights — all  subordination  was  slavery — all 
distinctions  of  condition,  and  all  difference  in  proper- 
ty, whether  acquired  by  honest  industry,  or  inherit- 
ed from  wise  and  prudent  ancestors,  was  represent- 
ed as  an  unjust  encroachment  on  that  equality  whioh 
nature  had  established  between  man  and  man. 

4.  In  the  dreadful  excesses  which  such  doctrines 
naturally  invited,  the  government  itself  took  the  most 
active  part.  It  became  an  accomplice  in  all  the  hor- 
rors, which,  it  has  been  hitherto  the  object  of  all 
governments  to  prevent.  Every  new  regulation  pro- 
vided for  disorder — Every  new  decree  was  an  en- 
forcement of  violence,  rapine  and  murder. 

5.  To  the  daggers  of  the  assassins,  and  the  pike? 
of  the  sanguinary  banditti,  who  appeared  to  be  satiat- 
ed wTith  the  summary  acts  of  justice,  that  had  so  long 
deluged  the  streets  of  Paris  with  the  blood  of  inno- 
cent victims,  were  substituted  a  legalised  massacre, 
the  inexorable  sentence  of  the  revolutionary  tribunal, 
and  the  terrors  of  that  fatal  instrument  of  execution/ 
that  never  knows  rest,  that  never  admits  reprieve. 

6.  Atheism  was  proclaimed  to  be  seated  on  the 
altars  of  religion.  Under  its  tutelary  protection 
their  empire,  like  that  of  ancient  Rome,  was  to  know 
no  limits  of  territory  or  of  time. 

*  The  Guillotine. 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOfi.  133 

7.  The  faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  with  all  its  mild  and 
humane  injunctions,  with  all  its  charities,  and  all  its 
salutary  provisions  for  the  order,  peace,  and  tranquil- 
lity of  society,  was  denounced  as  a  system  unworthy 
of  the  ardent,  daring,  and  uncontrollable  spirit  that  in- 
flamed the  legislators  of  France.  In  their  infidelity 
they  triumphed  over  its  doctrines — in  their  practice 
they  violated  its  duties — in  the  plunder  of  its 
churches  they  gratified  their  rapacious  avarice — and 
in  the  massacre  of  its  ministers  they  satisfied  their 
thirst  for  blood. 

8.  In  the  course  of  these  increasing  disorders,  the 
unhappy  nation  became  a  prey  to  a  succession  of  ty- 
rants, each  supplanting  the  other,  as  from  his  charac- 
ter, his  habits,  or  his  profession,  he  appeared  best 
qualiiied  to  act  a  part  on  the  horrid  scene.  The  ac- 
cession of  every  individual  to  the  confederacy  of  pow- 
er, was  marked  by  a  nearer  approach  to  the  extremes 
of  oppression,  cruelty  and  intolerance  ;  and  in  this 
race  of  insatiable,  shameless,  remorseless  ambition, 
the  most  forward  and  daring  of  their  own  accom- 
plices rushed  to  their  ruin. 

9.  The  executioner  of  one  day  became  the  crimi- 
nal of  the  next ;  and,  O  !  the  inscrutableness  of  the 
divine  justice  !  the  advisers  and  actors  in  the  murder 
of  their  injured  sovereign,  were,  in  their  turn,  deni- 
ed, by  their  own  confederates,  that  mercy,  which 
they  had  themselves  denied  to  him.  They  clashed 
with  the  private  designs  of  some  new  conspirator  ; 
and  meeting  the  fate  of  the  impious  and  cruel  Jeze- 
bel, 'where  dogs  licked  the  blood  of  their  innocent  vic- 
tim, dogs,  in  a  few  days,  licked  their  blood, 

M. 


134  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 


Speeches  on  Education. 

ADVANTAGES    OF    KNOWLEDGE. 

From  Rev.  R.  Hall's  Sermon,  "  Advantage  of  knowledge  to 
the  lower  classes."     1810. 

1.  Knowledge  in  general  expands  the  mind,  ex- 
alts the  faculties,  refines  the  taste  of  pleasure,  and 
opens  innumerable  sources  of  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment. 

2.  By  means  of  it,  we  become  less  dependent  for 
satisfaction  upon  the  sensitive  appetites  ;  the  gross 
pleasures  of  sense  are  more  easily  despised,  and  we 
are  made  to  feel  the  superiority  of  the  spiritual  to 
the  material  part  of  our  nature.  Instead  of  being 
continually  solicited  by  the  influence  and  irritation  of 
sensible  objects,  the  mind  can  retire  within  herself, 
and  expatiate  in  the  cool  and  quiet  walks  of  contem- 
plation. 

3.  The  poor  man  who  can  read,  and  who  possesses 
a  taste  for  reading,  can  find  entertainment  at  home, 
without  being  tempted  to  repair  to  the  publick  house 
for  that  purpose.  His  mind  can  find  him  employment 
when  his  body  is  at  rest ;  he  does  not  lie  prostrate  and 
afloat  on  the  current  of  incidents,  liable  to  be  carried 
whithersoever  the  impulse  of  appetite  may  direct. 

4.  There  is  in  the  mind  of  such  a  man  an  intellect- 
ual spring  urging  him  to  the  pursuit  of  ?nental  good  ; 
and  if  the  minds  of  his  family  also  are  a  little  cultivated, 
conversation  becomes  the  more  interesting,  and  the 
sphere  of  domestic  enjoyment  enlarged. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  135 

5.  The  calm  satisfaction  which  books  afford,  puts 
him  into  a  disposition  to  relish  more  exquisitely, 
the  tranquil  delight  inseparable  from  the  indulgence 
of  conjugal  fmd  parental  affection  :  and  as  he  will  be 
more  respectable  in  the  eyes  of  his  family  than  he 
who  can  teach  them  nothing,  he  will  be  naturally  in- 
duced to  cultivate  whatever  may  preserve,  and  shun 
whatever  would  impair  that  respect. 

6.  He  who  is,  inured  to  reflection  will  carry  his 
views  beyond  the  present  hour;  he  will  extend  his 
prospect  a  little  into  futurity,  and  be  disposed  to  make 
some  provision  for  his  approaching  wants ;  whence 
will  result  an  increased  motive  to  industry,  together 
with  a  care  to  husband  his  earnings,  and  to  avoid  un- 
necessary expense . 

7.  The  poor  man  who  has  gained  a  taste  for  good 
books,  will  in  all  likelihood  become  thoughtful,  and 
when  you  have  given  the  poor  a  habit  of  thinking, 
you  have  conferred  on  them  a  much  greater  favor 
than  by  the  gift  of  a  large  sum  of  money,  since  you 
have  put  them  in  possession  of  the  principle  of  all  le- 
gitimate prosperity. 


OBJECTIONS    TO    THE    EDUCATION    OF    THE  POOR  ANSWERED. 

From  the  same. 

1;  So>rE  have  objected  to  the  instruction  of  the 
lower  classes,  from  an  apprehension  that  it  would  lift 
them  above  their  sphere,  make  them  dissatisfied  witf^ 
their  station  in  life,  and  by  impairing  the  habit  of  sub- 


136  THE    CHRISTIAN     OKAiOH. 

ordination,  endanger  the  tranquillity  aftl  ;   an 

objection  devoid  surely  of  all  force  and  validity. 

2.  It  is  not  ea-y  to  conceive  in  v>  hat  manner  instruct- 
ing men  in  their  duties  can  prompt  thc#h  to  neglect 
those  duties,  or  how  that  enlargement  of  reason 
which  enables  them  to  comprehend  the  true  grounds 
of  authority  and  the  obligation  to  obedience,  should 
indispose  them  to  obey. 

3.  Nothing  in  reality  renders  legitimate  govern- 
ment so  insecure  as  extreme  ignorance  in  the  people. 
It  is  this  which  yields  them  an  easy  prey  to  seduction, 
makes  them  the  victims  of  prejudice  and  false  alarms, 
and  so  ferocious  withal,  that  their  interference  in  a 
time  of  public  commotion,  is  more  to  be  dreaded  than 
the  eruption  of  a  volcano. 

4.  Look  at  the  popular  insurrections  and  massacres 
in  France  ;  of  what  description  of  persons  were  those 
ruffians  composed  who,  breaking  forth  like  a  torrent, 
overwhelmed  the  mounds  of  lawful  authority  ?  Who 
were  the  cannibals  that  sported  with  the  mangled  car- 
cases and  palpitating  limbs  of  their  murdered  victim*, 
and  dragged  them  about  with  their  teeth  in  the  gardens 
of  the  Thuilleries  ?  Were  they  refined  and  elaborat- 
ed into  these  barbarities  by  the  efforts  of  a  t 

ed  education  ?  Xo  :  they  were  the  very  scum  i 
populace,  destitute  of  all  moral  culture,  whose  a1 
ty  was  only  equalled  by  their  ignorance. 

5.  Who  are  the  persons  who,  in  every  country,  are. 
most  disposed  to  outrage  and  violence,  but  the  mo-r 
ignorant  and  uneducated  of  the  poor  ?  to  which  els- 
chiefly  belong  those  unhappy  beings  who  are  doomed 
to  expiate  their  crimes  at  the  fatal  tree  ;  few 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  13 i 

it  has  recently  been  ascertained,  on  accurate  inquiry., 
are  able  to  read,  and  the  greater  part  utterly  destitute 
of  all  moral  or  religious  principle. 


EVILS    OF    IGNORANCE, 

From  the  same. 

1.  Ignorance  gives  a  sort  of  eternity  to  prejudice, 
and  perpetuity  to  error.  When  a  baleful  superstition, 
like  that  of  the  church  of  Rome,  has  once  got  footing 
among  a  people  in  this  situation,  it  becomes  next  to 
impossible  to  eradicate  it :  for  it  can  only  be  assailed, 
with  success,  by  the  weapons  of  reason  and  argument, 
and  to  these  weapons  it  is  impassive.  The  sword  of 
ethereal  temper  loses  its  edge,  when  tried  on  the 
scaly  hide  of  this  leviathan. 

2.  No  wonder  the  church  of  Rome  is  such  a  friend 
to  ignorance  ;  it  is  but  paving  the  arrears  of  grati- 
tude in  which  she  is  deeply  indebted.  How  is  it  pos- 
sible for  her  not  to  hate  that  light  which  would  un- 
veil her  impostures,  and  detect  her  enormities  ? 

3.  If  we  survey  the  genius  of  Christianity,  we  shall  ■ 
find  it  to  be  just  the  reverse.     It  was  ushered  into  the 
world  with  the  injunction,  go  and  teach  all  nations, 
and  every  step  of  its  progress  is  to  be  ascribed  to  in- 
struction. 

4.  At  the  reformation,  the  progress  of  the  reform- 
ed faith  went  hand  in  hand  with  the  advancement  of 
letters  :  it  had  every  where  the  same  friends  and  the 
same  enemies,  and  next  to  its  agreement  with  the 
holy  Scriptures,  its  success  is  chiefly  to  be  ascribed, 

M  2 


138  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

under  God,  to  the  art  of  printing,  the  revival  of  clas- 
sical learning,  and  the  illustrious  patrons  of  science 
attached  to  its  cause. 

5.  In  the  representation  of  that  glorious  period, 
usually  styled  the  Millennium,  when  religion  shall 
universally  prevail,  it  is  mentioned  as  a  conspicuous 
feature,  that  men  shall  run  to  and  fro,  and  knowledge 
shall  be  increased.  That  period  will  not  be  distin- 
guished from  the  preceding,  by  men's  minds  being 
more  torpid  and  inactive,  but  rather  by  the  consecra- 
tion of  every  power  to  the  service  of  the  Most  High. 

6.  It  will  be  a  period  of  remarkable  illumination, 
during  which  the  light  of  the  moon  shall  be  as  the  light 
of  the  sun,  and  the  light  of  the  sun  as  that  of  seven  days. 
Every  useful  talent  will  be  cultivated,  every  heart, 
subservient  to  the  interests  of  man,  be  improved 
and  perfected  ;  learning  will  amass  her  stores,  and  ge- 
nius emit  her  splendor  ;  but  the  former  will  be  dis- 
played without  ostentation,  and  the  latter  shine  with 
the  softened  effulgence  of  humility  and  love. 


Speeches  on  the  Slave  Trade. 

EXTRACTS    FROM    MR.    WlLBERFORCF.'s    SPEECH. 

Delivered  on  the  2nd  of  April,  1792,  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  a  motion  for  the  Abolition  of  the  Slave  Trade. 

1.  Would  you  be  acquainted  with  the  character  of 
the  Slave  Trade — look  to  the  continent  of  Africa,  and 
there  you  will  behold  9uch  a  scene  of  horrors  as  no 
tongue  can  express,  no  imagination  can  represent  to 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  139 

itself.  One  mode  adopted  by  the  petty  chieftains  of 
that  country  to  supply  our  traders  with  slaves  is,  that 
of  committing  depredations  upon  each  other's  terri- 
tories :  This  circumstance  gives  a  peculiar  character 
to  the  wars  in  Africa.  They  are  predatory  expedi- 
tions, of  which  the  chief  object  is  the  acquisition  of 
slaves. 

2.  But  this,  Sir,  is  the  lightest  of  the  evils 
Africa  suffers  from  the  Slave  Trade.  Still  more  in- 
tolerable are  those  acts  of  outrage  which  we  are  con- 
tinually stimulating  the  kings  to  commit  on  their  own 
subjects.  Instead  of  the  guardians  and  protectors, 
those  kings  have  been  made,  through  our  instrument 
tality,  the  despoilers  and  ravagers  of  their  people. 

3.  A  chieftain  is  in  want  of  European  commodities, 
He  sends  a  party  of  soldiers  by  night  to  one  of  his 
own  defenceless  villages.  They  set  fire  to  it  ;  they 
seize  the  miserable  inhabitants  as  they  are  flying 
from  the  flames,  and  hurry  with  thera  to  the  ships 
of  the  Christian  traders,  who,  hovering  like  vul- 
tures over  these  scenes  of  carnage,  are  ever  ready 
for  their  prey. 

4.  Nor  is  it  only  by  the  chieftains  that  these  disor- 
ders are  committed;  every  one's  hand  is  against  his 
neighbour.  Whithersoever  a  man  goes,  be  it  to  the 
watering-place,  or  to  the  field,  he  is  not  safe.  He 
never  can  quit  his  house  without  fear  of  being  carri- 
ed off  by  fraud  or  force  ;  and  he  dreads  to  come 
home  again,  lest,  on  his  return,  he  should  find  his  hut 
a  heap  of  ruins,  and  his  family  torn  away  into  per- 
petual exile.  Distrust  and  terror  every  where  pre- 
vail, and  the  whole  country  is  one  continued  scene  of 
anarchy  and  desolation. 


140  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

5.  But  this  is  not  all.  ISTo  means  of  procuring" 
slaves  is  left  untouched.  Even  the  administration  of 
justice  itself  is  made  a  fertile  source  of  supply  to  this 
inhuman  traffick.  Every  crime  is  punished  by  slave- 
ry ;  and  false  accusations  are  continually  brought,  in 
order  to  obtain  the  price  for  which  the  criminal  is 
sold.  Sometimes  the  judges  have  a  considerable 
part  of  this  very  price.  Every  man,  therefore,  is 
stimulated  to  bring  an  action  against  his  neighbour. 

6.  But  these  evils,  terrible  as  they  are,  do  not 
equal  those  which  are  endured  on  board  ship,  or  in 
what  is  commonly  called  the  middle  passage.  The 
mortality  during  this  period  is  excessive.  The  slaves 
labor  under  a  fixed  dejection  and  melancholy,  inter- 
rupted now  and  then  by  lamentations  and  plaintive 
songs,  expressive  of  their  concern  for  their  relations 
and  friends  and  native  country. 

7.  Many  attempt  to  drown  themselves ;  others  ob- 
stinately refase  "to  take  sustenance  ;  and  when  the 
whip  and  other  violent  means  have  been  used  to 
compel  them  to  eat,  they  have  sometimes  looked 
up  in  the  face  of  the  officer  who  executed  this  task, 
and  consoled  themselves  by  saying,  in  their  own  lan- 
guage, u  presently  we  shall  be  no  more." 

8.  O,  Sir  !  are  not  these  things  too  bad  to  be  any 
longer  endured  ?  I  cannot  but  persuade  myself  that 
whatever  difference  of  opinion  there  may  have  been, 
we  shall  be  this  night  at  length  unanimous.  1  cannot 
believe  that  a  British  House  of  Commons  will  give 
its  sanction  to  the  continuance  of  this  infernal  traffick. 
Never  was  there,  indeed,  a  system  so  big  with  wick- 
edness and  cruelty.  To  whatever  part  of  it  you  di- 
rect your  view,  the  eye  finds  no  relief. 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  141 

J.  It  is  the  gracious  ordinance  of  Providence,  both 
in  the  natural  and  moral  world,  that  good  should  often 
arise  out  of  evil.  Hurricanes  clear  the  air,  and  per- 
secution promotes  the  propagation  of  the  truth. 
Pride,  vanity,  and  profusion,  in  their  remoter  conse- 
quences contribute  often  to  the  happiness  of  mankind. 
Even  those  classes  of  men  that  may  seem  most  nox- 
ious have  some  virtues.  The  Arab  is  hospitable 
The  robber  is  brave.  We  do  not  necessarily  find 
cruelty  associated  with  fraud,  or  meanness  with  in- 
justice. 

10.  But  here  it  is  otherwise.  It  is  the  preroga- 
tive of  this  detested  traffick  to  separate  from  evil  its 
concomitant  good,  and  reconcile  discordant  mischiefs ; 
it  robs  war  of  its  generosity  ;  it  deprives  peace  of  its 
security.  You  have  the  vices  of  polished  society 
without  its  knowledge  or  its  comforts  ;  and  the  evils 
of  barbarism  without  its  simplicity. 

1 1.  No  age,  sex  or  rank  is  exempt  from  the  influ- 
ence of  this  wide-wasting  calamity.  It  attains  to  the 
fullest  measure  of  pure,  unmixed  wickedness  ;  and, 
scorning  all  competition  or  comparison,  it  stands  in 
the  undisputed  possession  of  its  detestable  preemi- 
nence. 


•  MR.    PITT  S    SPEECH. 

Delivered  on  the  same  occasion  with  the  preceding*. 

PART    I. 

1.  Sir,  I  now  come  to  Africa.     That  is  the  ground 
•jn  which  I  rest ;   and  here  it  is.  that   I  say  my  right 


142  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

honorable   friends*   do  not  carry  their  principles  to 
their  full  extent. 

2.  Why  ought  the  Slave  Trade  to  be  abolished  ? 
because  it  is  incurable  injustice.  How  much  stronger 
then  is  the  argument  for  immediate,  than  gradual 
abolition  !  by  allowing  it  to  continue  even  for  one 
hour,  do  not  my  right  honorable  friends  weaken — 
do  not  they  desert,  their  own  argument  of  its  in- 
justice ?  If  on  the  ground  of  injustice  it  ought  to  be 
abolished  at  last,  why  ought  it  not  now  ?  Why  is  in- 
justice suffered  to  remain  for  a  single  hour  ? 

3.  From  what  I  hear  without  doors,  it  is  evident 
that  there  is  a  general  conviction  entertained  of  its 
being  far  from  just,  and  from  that  very  conviction  of 
its  injustice,  some  men  have  been  led,  I  fear,  to  the 
supposition,  that  the  Slave  Trade  never  could  have 
been  permitted  to  begin,  but  from  some  strong  and 
irresistible  necessity;  a  necessity,  however,  which, 
if  it  was  fancied  to  exist  at  first,  I  have  shown  cannot 
be  thought  by  any  man  whatever  to  exist  now. 

4.  This  plea  of  necessity,  thus  presumed,  and  pre- 
sumed, as  I  suspect,  from  the  circumstance  of  injus- 
tice itself,  has  caused  a  sort  of  acquiescence  in  the 
continuance  of  this  evil.  Men  have  been  led  to 
place  it  among  the  rank  of  those  necessary  evils,  which 
are  supposed  to  be  the  lot  of  human  creatures,  and 
to  be  permitted  to  fall  upon  some  countries  or  in- 
dividuals, rather  than  upon  others,  by  that  Being, 
whose  ways  are  inscrutable  to  us,  and  whose  dispen- 

'  sations,  it  is  conceived,  we  ought  not  to  look  into. 

*  Mr.  Ddndas,  now  lord  Melville  ;  Mr.  Addingtun,  now 
lord  Sidmouth. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  143 

5.-  The  origin  of  evil  is  indeed  a  subject  beyond 
the  reach  of  human  understandings ;  and  the  per- 
mission of  it  by  the  Supreme  Being,  is  a  subject  into 
which  it  belongs  not  to  us  to  inquire.  But  where 
the  evil  in  question  is  a  moral  evil,  which  a  man  can 
scrutinize,  and  where  that  moral  evil  has  its  origin 
with  ourselves,  let  us  not  imagine  that  we  can  clear 
our  consciences  by  this  general,  not  to  say  irreli- 
gious and  impious  way  of  laying  aside  the  question. 

6.  If  we  reflect  at  all  on  this  subject,  we  must  see 
that  every  necessary  evil  supposes  that  some  other 
*  and  greater  evil  would  be  incurred  were  it  removed : 
I  therefore  desire  to  ask,  what  can  be  that  greater 
evil,  which  can  be  stated  to  overbalance  the  one  in 
question  ? — /  know  of  no  evil  that  ever  has  existed,  nor 
can  imagine  any  evil  to  exist,  worse  than  the  tearing  of 
eighty  thousand  persons  annually  from  their  native 
land,  by  a  combination  of  the  most  civilized  nations,  in, 
the  most  enlightened  quarter  of  the  globe  ;  but  more  es- 
pecially by  that  nation,  which  calls  herself  the  most  free 
and  most  happy  of  them  all. 

PART    II. 

1.  Think  of  Eighty  Thousand  persons  carried 
away  out  of  their  country,  by-  we  know  not  what 
means  ;  for  crimes  imputed ;  for  light  or  inconsider- 
able faults  ;  for  debt  perhaps  ;  for  the  crime  of  witch- 
craft, or  a  thousand  other  weak  and  scandalous  pre- 
texts. Think  on  all  the  fraud  and  kidnapping,  the  vil- 
lanies  and  perfidity,  by  which  the  Slave  Trade  is  sup- 
plied. Reflect  on  these  eighty  thousand  persons 
thus  annually  taken  off.  There  is  something  in  the 
horror  of  it  that  surpasses  all  imagination, 


141  THE    CHRISTIAX    OIIATOE. 

2.  But  that  country,  it  \<  said,  lias  been  in  seme 
degree  civilized,  and  civilized  by  us.  It  is  said  they 
have  gained  some  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
justice.  What,  Sir,  have  they  gained  principles  of 
justice  from  us  ?  Is  their  civilization  brought  about 
by  us  ! 

3.  Yes,  we  give  them  enough  of  our  intercourse 
to  convey  to  them  the  means,  and  to  initiate  them  in 
the  study  of  mutual  destruction.  We  give  them  just 
enough  of  the  forms  of  justice  to  enable  them  to  add 
the  pretext  of  legal  trials  to  their  other  modes  of 
perpetrating  the  most  atrocious  iniquity.  We  give  ' 
them  just  enough  of  European  improvements  to  en- 
able them  the  more  effectually  to  turn  Africa  into 

a  ravaged  wilderness. 

4.  But  I  refrain  from  enumerating  half  the  dread- 
ful consequences  of  this  system.  Do  you  think 
nothing  of  the  ruin  and  the  miseries  in  which  so 
many  other  individuals,  still  remaining  in  Africa,  are 
involved  in  consequence  of  carrying  off  so  many 
myriads  of  people  ?  Do  you  think  nothing  of  their 
families,  which  are  left  behind  \  of  the  connexions 
which  are  broken ;  of  the  friendships,  attachments, 
and  relationships  that  are  burst  asunder  ? 

5.  What  do  you  yet  know  of  the  internal  state  of 
Africa  ?  You  have  carried  on  a  trade  to  that  quarter 
of  the  globe  from  this  civilized  and  enlightened 
country ;  but  such  a  trade  that,  instead  of  diffusing 
either  knowledge  or  wealth,  it  has  been  the  check 
to  every  laudable'  pursuit.  Long  as  that  continent 
has  been  known  to  navigators,  the  extreme  line  and 
boundaries  of  its  coasts  is  all  with  which  Europe  is 
yet  acquainted. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  145 

G.  As  to  the  whole  interior  of  that  continent  you 
are  by  your  own  principles  of  commerce  entirely 
shut  out.  Africa  is  known  to  you  only  in  its  skirts. 
Yet  even  there  you  are  able  to  infuse  a  poison  that 
spreads  its  contagious  effects  from  one  end  of  it  to 
the  other ;  which  penetrates  to  its  very  centre,  cor- 
rupting every  part  which  it  reaches.  You  there 
subvert  the  whole  order  of  nature;  you  aggravate 
every  natural  barbarity,  and  furnish  to  every  man 
living  on  that  continent,  motives  for  committing,  un- 
der the  name  and  pretext  of  commerce,  acts  of  per- 
petual violence  and  perfidy  against  his  neighbour. 

7.  Thus,  Sir,  has  the  perversion  of  British  com- 
merce carried  misery  to  one  whole  quarter  of  the 
globe.  How  shall  we  ever  repair  this  mischief  ? 
How  shall  we  obtain  forgiveness  from  Heaven  if  we 
refuse  to  use  the  means  reserved  to  us  for  wiping 
away  the  guilt  and  shame  with  which  we  are  now 
covered  ? 

8.  If  we  refuse  even  now  to  put  a  stop  to  them, 
how  greatly  aggravated  will  be  our  guilt.  What  a 
blot  will  these  transactions  forever  be  in  the  history 
of  this  country  !  Shall  we  then  delay  to  repair  these 
injuries  ?  Shall  we  not  rather  count  the  days  and 
hours  that  are  suffered  to  intervene  and  to  delay 
the  accomplishment  of  such  a  work? 

part  in. 

1.  There  was  a  time,  Sir,  when  even  human  sac- 
rifices are  said  to  have   been   offered  in  this  island, 
Nay,  the  very  practice  of  the  Slave  Trade  once  pre- 
vailed among  us.     Slaves  were  formerly  an  establish- 
N 


146  THE    CHftlftTLAN    ORATOR. 

ed  article  of  our  export?.  Great  numbers  were  ex- 
ported like  cattle  from  the  British  coast,  and  were 
to  be  seen  exposed  for  sale  in  the  Roman  market. 

2.  Now,  Sir,  it  is  alleged  that  Africa  labors  under 
a  natural  incapacity  for  civilization,  that  it  is  enthusi- 
asm and  fanaticism  to  think  that  she  can  ever  enjoy 
the  knowledge  and  the  morals  of  Europe  ;  that  Prov- 
idence never  intended  her  to  rise  above  a  state  of 
barbarism.  Allow  of  this  principle,  as  applied  to  Af- 
rica, and  I  should  be  glad  to  know,  why  it  might  not  al- 
so have  been  applied  to  ancient  and  uncivilized  Britain? 

3.  Why  might  not  some  Roman  Senator,  reasoning 
on  the  principles  of  the  honorable  gentlemen,  and 
pointing  to  British  barbarians,  have  predicted  with 
equal  boldness,  u  there  is  a  people  that  will  never 
rise  to  civilization — there  is  a  people  never  destined 
to  be  free — a  people  without  the  understanding  nee- 
essary  for  the  attainment  of  useful  arts  ;  depressed 
by  the  hand  of  nature  below  the  level  of  the  human 
species;  and  created  to  form  a  supply  of  slaves  for 
the  rest  of  the  world."  Might  not  this  have  been 
said,  according  to  the  principles,  which  we  now  hear 
stated  in  all  respects  as  fairly  and  as  truly  of  Britain 
herself  at  that  period  of  her  history,  as  it  can  now  bo 
said  by  us  of  the  inhabitants  of  Africa  ? 

4.  We,  Sir,have  long  since  emerged  from  barbarism. 
We  have  almost  forgotten  thafc-we  were  once  barba- 
rians. Yet  we  were  once,  as  obscure  among  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth,  as  savage  in  our  manners,  as  de- 
based in  our  morals,  as  degraded  in  our  understand- 
ings, as  these  unhappy  Africans  are  at  present.  But 
in  the  lapse  of  a  long  series  of  years,  by  a  progres- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  147 

si  on  slow,  and  for  a  time,  -almost  impreceptible,  we 
have  become  rich  in  a  variety  of  acquirements, 
unrivalled  in  commerce,  preeminent  in  arts,  foremost 
in  the  pursuits  of  philosophy  and  science,  and  estab- 
lished in  all  the  blessings  of  civil  society. 

5.  We  are  in  the  possession  of  peace,  of  happiness, 
and  of  liberty.  We  are  under  the  guidance  of  a  mild 
and  beneficent  religion  ;  and  we  are  protected  by 
impartial  laws,  and  the  purest  administration  of  jus- 
tice. From  all  these  blessings  we  must  forever  have 
been  shut  out,  had  there  been  any  truth  in  those  prin- 
ciples which  some  gentlemen  have  not  hesitated  to 
lay  down  as  applicable  to  Africa.  Ages  might  have 
passed  without  our  emerging  from  barbarism ;  we 
might  at  this  hour  have  been  little  superior  either  in 
morals,  in  knowledge,  or  refinement,  to  the  rude  in- 
habitants of  Guinea. 

6.  I  trust  we  shall  no  longer  continue  this  com- 
merce, to  the  destruction  of  every  improvement  on 
that  wide  continent.  If  we  listen  to  the  voice  of  rea- 
son and  duty,  and  pursue  this  night  the  line  of  conduct 
which  they  prescribe,  some  of  us  may  live  to  see  a 
reverse  of  that  picture,  from  which  we  now  turn  our 
eyes  with  shame  and  regret. 

7.  We  may  live  to  behold  the  natives  of  Africa,  eiv 
gaged  in  the  calm  occupations  of  industry,  in  the  pur- 
suits of  a  just  and  legitimate  commerce.  We  may 
behold  the  beams  of  science  and  philosophy  breaking 
in  upon  their  land,  which  at  some  happy  period  in 
still  later  times,  may  blaze  with  full  lustre  ;  and  join- 
ing their  influence  to  that  of  pure  religion,  may  illu- 
minate and  invigorate  the  most  distant  extremities  of 
tbat  immense  continent. 


148  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

8.  Then  may  we  hope  that  even  Africa,  though 
last  of  all  the  quarters  of  the  globe,  shall  enjoy  at 
length  in  the  evening  of  her  clays  those  blessings, 
which  have  descended  so  plentifully  upon  us  in  a 
much  earlier  period  of  the  world. 


MR.    FOX'S    SPEECH. 

On  the  same  occasion  with  the  preceding. 

PART     I. 

1.  The  honorable  gentlemen  call  themselves  moder- 
ate men  ;  but  upon  the  subject  of  the  Slave  Trade,  I 
confess,  I  neither  feel,  nor  desire  to  feel,  any  thing 
like  moderation.  Sir,  to  talk  of  moderation  upon 
this  matter,  reminds  me  of  a  passage  in  Middleton's 
Life  of  Cicero.  He  says,  "  to  enter  a  man's  house 
and  kill  him,  his  wife,  and  family,  in  the  night,  is 
certainly  a  most  heinous  crime,  and  deserving  of 
death.  But  to  break  open  his  house,  to  murder 
him,  his  wife  and  all  his  children,  in  the  night,  may 
still  be  very  right,  provided  it  is  done  zvith  modera- 
tion /' 

2.  This  is  absurd,  it  will  be  said;  and  yet,  sir,  it 
is  not  so  absurd  as  to  say,  the  Slave  Trade  may  be  car- 
ried on  with  moderation.  For  if  you  cannot  break 
into  a  single   house,  if  you   cannot  rob  and  murder 

*  a  single  man,  with  moderation;  with  what  modera- 
tion can  you  break  up  a  whole  country — can  you  pil- 
lage and  destroy  a  whole  nation  ?  Indeed — indeed, 
Sir,  in  an  affair  of  this  nature,  I  do  not  profess  mod- 
eration !  I  could  never  think  of  this  abolition,  but  as 
a  question  of  simple  justice. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  149 

3.  I  will  suppose,  that  the  West-India  islands  are 
likely  to  want  slaves,  on  account  of  the  dispropor- 
tion of  thesexes.  How  is  this  to  be  cured?  A  right 
honorable  gentleman  proposes  a  bounty  on  an  im- 
portation of  females  :  or  in  other  words,  he  propos- 
es to  make  up  this  deficiency,  by  offering  a  premium 
to  any  crew  of  unprincipled  and  savage  ruffians,  who 
will  attack  and  carry  off  any  of  the  females  of  Af- 
rica !  a  bounty  from  the  parliament  of  Britain  that 
shall  make  the  fortune  of  any  man,  or  set  of  men, 
who  shall  kidnap  or  steal,  any  unfortunate  females 
from  that  continent!  who  shall  kill  their  husbands, 
fathers  or  relations,  or  shall  instigate  any  others  to 
kill  them,  in  order  that  these  females  may  be  pro- 
cured ! 

4.  I  should  like  to  see  the  right  honorable  gen- 
tleman bring  up  such  a  clause.  1  should  like  to  see 
how  his  clause  would  be  worded.  I  should  like  to 
know,  who  is  the  man  that  would  pen  such  a  clause. 
For  my  part,  I  complain  of  the  whole  system  on 
which  this  trade  is  founded. 

5.  The  mode  too,  by  which  the  honorable  gen- 
tleman proposes  to  abolish  slavery  in  the  West  Indies^ 
is  not  a  little  curious.  First  of  all,  the  children  are 
to  be  born  free  ;  then  to  be  educated  at  the  expense 
of  those  to  whom  the  father  belongs.  The  race  of 
future  freemen,  he  says,  shall  not  be  without  educa- 
tion, like  the  present  miserable  slaves.  But  then  it 
occurred  to  the  right  honorable  gentleman,  thai 
they  could  not  be  educated  for  nothing.  In  order 
therefore,  to  repay  this  expense,  says  he,  when  ed- 

N  2 


150  XHB    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR* 

ucated,   they  shall  be  slaves  for  ten  or  fifteen  year?  \ 
and  so  we  will  get  over  that  difficulty. 

6.  They  are  to  have  the  education  of  a  #eoman.  in 
order  to  qualify  them  for  being  free  :  and  after  they 
have  been  so  educated.,  then  they  shall  go  and  be 
slaves.  Now  what  can  be  more  visionary  than  such 
a  mode  of  emancipation?  If  any  one  scheme  can  be 
imagined  more  absurd  than  another,  I  think  it  is  the 
one  now  proposed. 

PART    II. 

1.  The  mode  of  procuring  slaves  in  Africa  has 
nothing  like  fairness  in  it.  The  most  reputable  way 
of  accounting  for  the  supply  of  slaves  is  to  represent 
them  as  having  been  convicted  of  crimes,  by  legal 
authority.  But,  Sir,  the  number  of  slaves  annually 
exported  from  Africa  is  so  great,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  believe  that  all  of  them  have  been  guilty 
of  crimes.  Britain  alone  takes  off  no  less  than  thirty 
or  forty  thousand  Africans  every  year. 

2.  But  allowing  all  these  men  to  have  been  con- 
demned by  due  legal  process,  and  according  to  the 
strictest  principles  of  justice  ;  surely,  Sir,  in  this 
view  it  is  rather  condescending  in  our  country,  and 
rather  new  also  for  us,  to  take  on  ourselves  the  task 
of  transporting  the  convicts  of  other  parts  of  the 
world,  much  more  of  those  whom  we  call  barbarous. 

3.  Suppose  now  the  court  of  France  or  Spain  were 
to  intimate  a  wish  that  we  should  perform  this  office 
for  their  criminals  ;  I  believe  we  should  hardly  find 
terms  strong  enough  to  express  our  sense  of  the  in- 
sult.    But   for   Africa— for  its  petty  states— for  its 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  151 

lowest  and  most  miserable   criminals,  we  accept  the 
office  with  satisfaction  and  eagerness. 

4.  Now,**Sir,  a  word  or  two  as  to  the  specific 
crimes  for  which  the  Africans  are  sold  as  criminals. 
Witchcraft,  in  particular,  is  one.  For  this  we  enter- 
tain so  sacred  a  horror,  that  there  being  no  objects  to 
be  found  at  home,  we  make,  as  it  were,  a  crusade  to 
Africa,  to  show  our  indignation  at  the  sin  ! 

5.  As  to  adultery,  the  practice  to  be  sure,  does 
not  stand  exactly  on  the  same  ground.  Adulterers 
are  to  be  met  with  in  this  country.  lermined, 
however,  to  show  our  indignation  at  tibis  crime  also, 
we  send  to  Africa  to  punish  it.  We  there  prove  our 
anger  at  it  to  be  not  a  little  severe,  and  lest  any 
one  in  the  world  should  escape  punishment,  we  are 
willing  to  go  even  to  Africa  to  be  the"    executioners. 

6.  The  house  will  remember  that  what  I  have 
here  stated,  is  even  by  their  own  account,  the  very 
best  state  of  the  case  which  the  advocates  for  the 
Slave  Trade  have  pretended  to  set  u]  •  But  let  us 
see  how  far  facts  will  bear  them  out  even  in  these 
miserable  pretexts. 

7.  In  one  part  of  the  evidence,  we  find 
known  black  trader  brings  a  girl  to  a  slave  ship  to 
be  sold.  The  captain  buys  her.  Some  of  her  rela- 
tions come  on  board  afterwards,  and  ascertain  by 
whom  she  was  sold.  They,  in  return,  catch  the  ven- 
der, bring  him  to  the  same  ship,  arid  sell  him  for  a 
slave.  What,  says  the  black  trader  to  the  captain? 
"Do  you  buy  me  your  grand  trader  ?"' .  "  Yes,  says 
the  captain,  I  will  buy  you  or  any  one  else." 

8.  Now,  Sir,  there  is  great  reason  for  dwelling 
on  this  story.     Certainly  at  the  first  view,  it  appears 


152  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

to  be  an  instance  of  the  most  barefaced  vnlany,  and  of 
nothing  else.     Lut  if  we  examine  well  into  the  sub 
ject,  we  shall  see  that  what  happened  tse  is, 

and  ever  must  be  the  common  and  ordinary  conduct, 
that  results  from  the  very  nature  and  circumstances 
of  the  trade  itself. 

9.  How  could  this  captain  decide  ?  What  means 
had  he  even  of  inquiring  who  was  the  real  owner  of 
this  girl  ?  Whether  the  grand  trader  or  not ;  or  who 
was  the  owner  of  the  grand  trader. 

10.  The  captain  said  when  they  sold  the  grand 
trader,  the  same  thing  which  he  said  when  the  tra- 
der sold  the  girl ;  and  the  same  thing  too  which  he 
always  had  said,  and  always  must  say,  namely,  u  I  can- 
not know  who  has  a  right  to  sell  you  ;  it  is  no  affair 
of  mine.  If  they'll  sell  you,  I'll  buy  }'ou.  I  cannot 
enter  into  these  controversies.  If  any  man  offers 
me  a  slave,  my  rule  is  to  buy  him,  and  ask  no  ques- 
tions."' 

11.  That  the  trade  is,  in  fact,  carried  on  in  this 
manner,  is  indisputable  ;  and  that  wars  are  made  in 
Africa,  solely  for  the  purpose  of  supplying  the  Eu- 
ropean Slave  Trade,  is  equally  so. 

PART    III. 

1.  I  now  come,  Sir,  to  that  which  I  consider  really 
as  the  foundation  of  the  whole  business.  The  more 
I  think  on  the  subject,  the  more  I  reflect  on  all  the 
arguments,  feeble  as  they  are,  which  our  adversaries 
bring  forward  in  their  defence,  the  more  am  I  con- 
vinced that  there  is  one  ground,  and  only  one  ground 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  153 

on  which  it  is  possible  for  their  side  of  the  question 
to  stand. 

2.  It  is  an  argument,  which,  though  they- did  re- 
sort to  at  first,  they  have  not  used  to-day;  but  which 
really,  Sir,  if  I  were  to  advise  them,  they  should 
again  employ,  and  rest  their  whole  case  upon  it. 
I  mean  that  there  is  a  difference  of  species,  between 
black  men  and  white,  which  is  to  be  assumed  from 
the   difference  of  color.  ,: 

3.  Driven  as  our  antagonists  have  been,  from  this 
position,  and  ashamed  of  it,  as  they  now  are,  they 
reaily  have  no  other.  Why,  Sir,  if  we  can  but  es- 
tablish that  blacks  are  men  like  ourselves,  is  it  pos- 
sible that  we  can  have  any  patience  on  the  subject  ? 
Apply  the  same  case  to  France  which  is  happening 
every  day  in  Africa.  The  difference,  in  fact,  is  only 
in  the  color  of  the  people  of  the  two  countries. 

4.  There  exists  now  in  France,  or  in  several  of  its 
provinces,  a  very  great  degree  of  animosity  between 
the  two  contending  parties.  Let  us  suppose  now  that 
at  Marseilles,  for  instance,  or  some  other  port,  the 
aristocrats  were  to  sell  the  democrats  as  fast  as  they 
could  catch  them ;  and  the  democrats  were  to  sell 
the  aristocrats  in  like  manner,  and  that  we  had  ships 
hovering  on  the  coast,  ready  to  carry  them  all  off 
as  slaves  to  Jamaica,  or  some  other  island  in  the 
West  Indies. 

5.  If  we  were  to  hear  of  such  a  circumstance, 
would  it  not  strike  us  with  horror  ?  What  is  the 
reason  ?  Because  these  men  are  of  our  own  color. 
There  is  no  other  difference  in  the  two  cases  what- 
ever.    It   would   fill  us  all  with  horror  to  authorize 


154  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

slavery  any  where,  with  respect  to  white  men.  Is 
it  not  quite  as  unjust,  because  some  men  are  black, 
to  say  there  is  a  natural  distinction  as  to  them  ;  and 
that  black  men,  because  they  are  black,  ought  to  be 
slaves  ? 

6.  Set  aside  difference  of  color,  and  is  it  not  the 
height  of  arrogance  to  allege,  that  because  we  have 
strong  feelings  and  cultivated  minds,  it  would  be 
great  cruelty  to  make  slaves  of  us  ;  but  that  because 
they  are  yet  ignorant  and  uncivilized,  it  is  no  injury 
at  all  to  them  ?  Such  a  principle,  once  admitted,  lays 
the  foundation  of  a  tyranny  and  injustice  that  has 
njD  end. 

7.  I  remember  to  have  once  heard  or  read  long 
before  the  present  question  was  agitated,  a  well 
Jinown  story  of  an  African,  who  was  of  the  first  rank 
za  his  own  country,  and  a  man  of  letters.  He  was  ta- 
ken in  one  of  those  plundering  wars,  which  the 
Slave  Trade  excites,  was  carried  to  Maryland,  and 
sold,  as  it  happened,  to  a  remarkably  humane  and  very 
excellent  man.  His  master  inquired  into  the  case, 
found  out  that  he  was  educated  in  the  Mahometan 
religion,  that  he  could  read  and  write  Arabic,  that 
he  was  a  man  of  rank,  as  well  as  literature,  and  all 
the  circumstances  being  taken  into  consideration,  he 
was,  after  a  full  examination  of  facts,  redeemed  and 
sent  home  to  Africa. 

8.  Now,  Sir,  if  this  man  with  all  his  advantages 
had  fallen  into  the  hands,  1  do  not  say  of  a  hard 
hearted,  but  even  an  ordinary  masier,  would  he  not 
inevitably  have  worn  out  his  life  in  the  same  Egyp- 
tian bondage  in  which  thousands  of  his  fellow-Am- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  155 

cans  drag  on  their  miserable  days  ?  Put  such  cases  as 
these  home  to  yourselves,  and  you  will  find  the 
Slave  Trade  is  not  to  be  justified,  no r  to  be  tolerated 
for  a  moment,  for  the  sake  of  any  convenience. 


Speeches  on  various  Occasions, 

THE   FIRST    SETTLERS    OF    NEW-ENGLAND. 

From  an  Oration,  delivered  at  Plymouth,  Dec.  22d,  1802,  on 
the  Anniversary  of  the  landing  of  the  Plymouth  settlers, 
By  the  Hon.  John  Quincy  Adams. 

1.  In  reverting  to  the  period  of  their  origin, 
other  nations  have  generally  been  compelled  to 
plunge  into  the  chaos  of  impenetrable  antiquity,  or 
to  trace  a  lawless  ancestry  into  the  caverns  of  rav- 
ishers  and  robbers.  It  is  your  peculiar  privilege 
to  commemorate  in  this  birth  day  of  your  nation, 
an  event  ascertained  in  its  minutest  details :  an  event 
of  which  the  principal  actors  are  known  to  you  fa- 
miliarly, as  if  belonging  to  your  own  age  ;  an  event 
of  a  magnitude  before  which  imagination  shrinks  at 
the  imperfection  of  her  powers.  It  is  your  further 
happiness  to  behold  in  those  eminent  characters,  who 
were  most  conspicuous  in  accomplishing  the  settlement 
of  your  country,  men  upon  whose  virtues  you  can 
dwell  with  honest  exultation. 

2.  The  founders  of  your  race  are  not  handeddown  to 
you,  like  the  father  of  the  Roman  people,  as  the  suck- 
lings of  a  wolf.  You  are  not  descended  from  a  nauseous 
compound  of  fanaticism  and  sensuality,  whose  only  ar- 


156 


THE     CHI1IS1IAN    ORATOR. 


gument  was  the  sword,  and  whose  only  paradise  was  a 
brothel.  No  Gothic  scourge  of  God— No  Vandal  pest  of 
nations.  No  fabled  fugitive  from  the  flames  of  Troy — 
No  bastard  Norman  tyrant  appears  among  the  list 
of  worthies,  who  first  landed  on  the  rock  which  your 
veneration  has  preserved  as  a  lasting  monument  of 
their  achievement. 

3.  The  great  actors  of  the  day  we  now  solemnize 
were  illustrious  by  their  intrepid  valor,  no  less  than 
by  their  christian  graces  ;  but  the  clarion  of  conquest 
has  not  blazoned  forth  their  names  to  all  the  winds  of 
Heaven.  Their  glory  has  not  been  wafted  over 
oceans  of  blood  to  the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth. 
They  have  not  erected  to  themselves,  colossal  stat- 
ues upon  pedestals  of  human  bones,  to  provoke  and 
insult  the  tardy  hand  of  heavenly  retribution. 

4.  But  theirs  was  u  the  better  fortitude  of  patience 
2nd  heroic  martyrdom."  Theirs  was  the  gentle 
temper  of  christian  kindness — the  rigorous  obser- 
vance of  reciprocal  justice — the  unconquerable  soul 
of  conscious  integrity.  Worldly  fame  has  been  parsi- 
monious of  her  favors  to  the  memory  of  those  gen- 
erous champions. 

5.  Their  numbers  were  small — their  -stations  in 
life  obscure — the  object  of  their  enterprise  unosten- 
tatious— the  theatre  of  their  exploits  remote  :  how 
could  they  possibly  be  favorites  of  worldly  fame  ? 
That  common  crier,  whose  existence  is  only  known 
by  the  assemblage  of  multitudes — that  pander  of 
wealth  and  greatness  so  eager  to  haunt  the  palaces  of 
fortune,  and  so  fastidious  to  the  houseless  dignity  of 
virtue — that  parasite  of  pride,  ever  scornful  to  meek- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  157 

nesB,  and  ever  obsequious  to  insolent  power — that 
heedless  trumpeter,  whose  ears  are  deaf  to  modest 
merit,  and  whose  eyes  are  blind  to  bloodless,  distant 
excellence. 


RELIGION    A    SECURITY    AGAINST    NATIONAL    CALAMITIES 

From  Rev.  R.  Hall's  Sermon,  "  Reflections  on  War." 

1.  Our  only  security  against  national  calamities  is 
a  steady  adherence  to  religion,  not  the  religion  of 
mere  form  and  profession,  but  that  which  has  its  seat 
in  the  heart ;  not  as  it  is  mutilated  and  debased  by 
the  refinements  of  a  false  philosophy,  but  as  it  exists 
in  all  its  simplicity  and  extent  in  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures ;  consisting  in  sorrow  for  sin,  in  the  love  of  God, 
and  faith  in  a  crucified  Redeemer.  If  this  religion 
revives  and  flourishes  amongst  us,  we  may  still  sur- 
mount all  our  difficulties,  and  no  weapon  formed 
against  us  will  prosper ;  if  we  despise  or  neglect  it, 
no  human  power  can  afford  us  protection. 

2.  Instead  of  showing  our  love  to  our  country, 
therefore-  by  engaging  eagerly  in  the  strife  of  par- 
ties, let^us  choose  to  signalize  it  rather  by  benef- 
icence, hy  piety,  by  an  exemplary  discharge  of  the 
duties  tff  private  life,  under  a  persuasion  that  that 
man,  in  the  final  issue  of  things,  will  be  seen  to  have 
been  the  best  patriot,  who  is  the  best  Christian. 

3.  He  who  diffuses  the  most  happiness,  and  miti- 
gates the  most  distress  within  his  own  circle,  is  un- 
doubtedly the  best  friend  to  his  country  and  the  world, 
since  nothing  more  is  necessary,  than  for  all  men  to 

O 


158  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOK. 

imitate  his  conduct,  to  make  the  greatest  part  of  the 
misery  of  the  world  cease  in  a  moment. 

4.  While  the  passion,  then,  of  some  is  to  shine,  of 
some  to  govern,  and  of  others  to  accumulate,  let  one 
great  passion  alone  inflame  our  breasts,  the  passion 
which  reason  ratifies,  which  conscience  approves, 
which  Heaven  inspires  ;  that  of  being  and  of  doing 
good. 


DUTY    OF    VISITING    THE    POOR. 

From  a  Sermon  of  Rev.  R.  Hall,  delivered  before  a  Society 
lor  the  relief  of  the  poor. 

1.  It  is,  in  my  humble  opinion,  a  most  excellent 
part  of  the  plan  of  the  Society,  in  whose  behalf  1  ad- 
dress you,  that  no  relief  is  administered  without  first 
personally  visiting  the  objects  in  their  own  abode. 
By  this  means  the  precise  circumstances  of  each  case 
are  clearly  ascertained,  and  imposture  is  sure  to  be 
detected. 

2.  Where  charity  is  administered  without  this  pre- 
caution, as  it  is  impossible  to  discriminate  real  from 
pretended  distress,  the  most  disintereste^benevo- 
lence  often  fails  of  its  purpose  ;  and  that  is  yielded  to 
clamorous  importunity,  which  is  withheld  from  lone- 
ly want. 

3.  The  mischief  extends  much  further.  From  tht 
frequency  of  such  imposition,  the  best  minds  are  in 
danger  of  becoming  disgusted  with  the  exercise  of 
pecuniary  charity,  till,  from  a  mistaken  persuasion 
that  it  is  impossible  to  guard  against  deception,  they 


THE    CHRISTIAx\T    ORATOR.  159 

treat  the  most  abandoned  and  the  most  deserving  with 
the  same  neglect.  Thus  the  heart  contracts  into  sel- 
fishness, and  those  delicious  emotions  which  the  benev- 
olent Author  of  nature  implanted  to  prompt  us  to  re- 
lieve distress,  become  extinct;  a  loss  greater  to  ourselves 
ihan  to  the  objects  to  whom  we  deny  our  compassion, 

4.  To  prevent  a  degradation  of  character  so  fa- 
tal, allow  me  to  urge  on  all  whom  Providence  ha* 
blessed  with  the  means  of  doing  good,  on  those  es- 
pecially who  are  indulged  #ith  influence  and  leisure, 
the  importance  of  devoting  some  portion  of  their 
time  in  inspecting,  as  well  as  of  their  property  in  re- 
Ueving,  the  distresses  of  the  poor. 

5.  By  this  means  an  habitual  tenderness  will  be 
cherished,  which  will  heighten  inexpressibly  the 
happiness  of  life ;  at  the  same  time  that  it  will  most 
effectually  counteract  that  selfishness  which  a  con- 
tinual addictedness  to  the  pursuits  of  avarice  and  am- 
bition never  fails  to  produce. 

6.  As  selfishness  is  a  principle  of  continual  opera- 
tion, it  needs  to  be  opposed  by  some  other  principle, 
whose  operation  is  equally  uniform  and  steady  ;  but 
the  casual  impulse  of  compassion,  excited  by  occasion- 
al applications  for  relief,  is  by  no  means  equal  to  this 
purpose.  Then  only  will  benevolence  become  a 
prevailing  habit  of  mind,  when  its  exertion  enters 
into  the  system  of  life,  and  occupies  some  stated  por- 
tion of  the  time  and  attention. 

7.  In  addition  to  this,  it  is  worth  wThile  to  reflect 
how  much  consolation  the  poor  must  derive  from  rind- 
ing  they  are  the  objects  of  personal  attention  to  their 
more  opulent  neighbours,  that  they  are  acknowledg- 


160  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ed  as  brethren  of  the  same  family,  and  that  should 
they  be  overtaken  with  affliction  or  calamity,  the\ 
are  in  no  danger  of  perishing  unpitied  and  unnoticed. 
With  all  the  pride  that  wealth  is  apt  to  inspire,  how 
seldom  are  the  opulent  truly  aware  of  their  high 
destination ! 

8.  Placed  by  the  Lord  of  all  on  an  eminence,  and 
intrusted  with  a  superior  portion  of  his  goods,  to  them 
it  belongs  to  be  the  dispensers  of  his  bounty,  to  suc- 
cour distress,  todraw  merit  from  obscurity,  to  behold  op- 
pression and  want  vanish  before  them,  and,  accompani- 
ed wherever  they  move  with  perpetual  benedictions,  to 
present  an  image  of  Him,  who,  at  the  close  of  time, 
in  the  kingdom  of  the  redeemed,  will  zvipe  away  tear? 
from  all  faces. 


ON  THE  DANGER  OF  NEGLECTING  THE  POOH. 

From  the  same. 

1.  To  descant  on  the  evils  of  poverty  might  seem 
entirelj  unnecessary,  (for  what  with  most  is  the  great 
ijusiness  of  life,  but  to  remove  it  to  the  greatest  pos- 
sible distance  ?)  were  it  not  that  besides  its  being  the 
most  common  of  all  evils,  there  are  circumstances 
peculiar  to  itself,  which  expose  it  to  neglect.  The 
seat  of  its  sufferings  are  the  appetites,  not  the  pas- 
sions ;  appetites  which  are  common  to  all,  and  which, 
being  capable  of  no  peculiar  combinations,  confer  no 
distinction. 

2.  There  are  kinds  of  distress  founded  on  the  pas- 
sions, which,  if  not  applauded,  are  at  least  admired  in 
their  excess,  as  implying  a  peculiar  refinement  of  sen 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  161 

sibility  in  the  mind  of  the  sufferer.  Embellished  by 
taste,  and  wrought  by  the  magic  of  genius  into  innu- 
merable forms,  they  turn  grief  into  a  luxury,  and  draw 
from  the  eyes  of  millions  delicious  tears. 

3.  But  no  muse  ever  ventured  to  adorn  the  dis- 
tresses of  poverty  or  the  sorrows  of  hunger.  Disgust- 
ing taste  and  delicacy,  and  presenting  nothing  pleasing 
to  the  imagination,  they  are  mere  misery  in  all  its  na- 
kedness and  deformity.  Hence  shame  in  the  sufferer, 
contempt  in  the  beholder,  and  an  obscurity  of  station, 
which  frequently  removes  them  from  the  view,  are 
their  inseparable  portion. 

4.  Nor  can  I  reckon  it  on  this  account  amongst 
the  improvements  of  the  present  age,  that  by  the  mul- 
tiplication of  works  of  fiction,  the  attention  is  diverted 
from  scenes  of  real,  to  those  of  imaginary  distress  ; 
from  the  distress  which  demands  relief,  to  that  which 
admits  of  embellishment  :  in  consequence  of  which 
the  understanding  is  enervated,  the  heart  is  corrupted, 
and  those  feelings  which  were  designed  to  stimulate 
to  active  benevolence  are  employed  in  nourishing  a 
sickly  sensibility. 

5.  Leaving  therefore  these  amusements  of  the  im- 
agination to  the  vain  and  indolent,  let  us  awake  to  na- 
ture and  truth,  and  in  a  world  from  which  we  must  so 
shortly  be  summoned,  a  world  abounding  with  so  many 
real  scenes  of  heart-rending  distress,  as  well  as  of  vice 
and  impiety,  employ  all  our  powers  in  relieving  the 
one,  and  in  correcting  the  other,  that  when  we  have 
arrived  at  the  borders  of  eternity,  we  may  not  be  tor- 
mented with  the  awful  reflection  of  having  lived  in 
vain. 

o  r> 


162  THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 


ON    PROFANE    SWEARING. 

From  R.  Hall's  Sermon,  "Sentiments  proper  to  the  presciu 
crisis."     1809. 

1.  Among  the  proofs  of  the  degeneracy  ofour  man- 
ners is  that  almost  and  universal  profaneness  which 
taints  our  daily  intercourse.  In  no  nation  under 
heaven,  prohably,  has  the  profanation  of  sacred  terms 
been  so  prevalent  as  in  this  christian  land. 

2.  The  name  even  of  the  Supreme  Being  himself, 
and  the  words  he  has  employed  to  denounce  the  pun- 
ishments of  the  impenitent,  are  rarely  mentioned,  but 
in  anger  or  in  sport ;  so  that  were  a  stranger  to  our 
history  to  witness  the  style  of  our  conversation,  he 
would  naturally  infer  that  we  considered  religion  as  a 
detected  imposture  ;  and  that  nothing  more  remained 
than,  in  return  for  the  fears  it  had  inspired,  to  treat 
it  with  the  insult  and  derision  due  to  a  fallen  tyrant. 

3.  It  is  difficult  to  account  for  a  practice  which 
gratifies  no  passion,  and  promotes  no  interest,  unless 
we  ascribe  it  to  a  certain  vanity  of  appeaving  superior 
to  religious  fear,  which  tempts  men  to  make  bold 
with  their  Maker.  If  there  are  hypocrites  in  relig- 
ion, there  are  also,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  hypo- 
crites in  impiety,  men  who  make  an  ostentation  'of 
more  irreligion  than  they  possess. 

4.  An  ostentation  of  this  nature,  the  most  irration- 
al in  the  records  of  human  folly,  seems  to  lie  at  the 
root  of  profane  swearing.  It  may  not  be  improper 
to  remind  such  as  indulge  this  practice,  that  they 
need  not  insult  their  Maker  to  shew  that  they  do  not 

*  fear  him ;  that  they  may  relinquish  this  vice  without 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  163 

danger  of  being  supposed  to  be  devout,  and  that  they 
may  safely  leave  it  to  other  parts  of  their  conduct 
to  efface  the  smallest  suspicion  of  their  piety. 


THE  DIGNITY  A:.D  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  MINISTERIAL  OFFICE. 

From  Rev.  R.  Hall's  Sermon  on  the  discouragements   and 
supports  of  the  christian  ministry.      1811. 

1.  If  the  dignity  of  an  employment  is  to  be  estima- 
ted, not  by  the  glitter  of  external  appearances,  but 
by  the  magnitude  and  duration  of  the  consequences 
involved  in  its  success,  the  ministerial  function  is  an 
high  and  honorable  one. 

2.  Though  it  is  not  permitted  us  to  magnify  our- 
s elves )  we  may  be  allowed  to  magnify  our  office  ;  and, 
indeed,  ^thejuster  the  apprehensions  we  entertain  of 
what  belongs  to  it,  the  deeper  the  conviction  we 
shall  feel  of  our  defects. 

3.  Independently  of  every  other  consideration,  that 
office  cannot  be  mean  which  the  Son  of  God  con- 
descended to  sustain  :  The  word  which  we  preach  fir  si 
began  to  be  spoken  by  the  Lord  ;  and,  while  he  so- 
journed upon  earth,  that  Prince  of  life  was  chiefly 
employed  in  publishing  his  own  religion. 

4.  That  office  cannot  be  mean,  whose  end  is  the 
recovery  of  man  to  his  original  purity  and  happiness — 
the  illumination  of  the  understanding — the  commu- 
nication of  truth — and  the  production  of  principles 
^vhich  will  bring  forth  fruit  unto  everlasting  life. 

5.  As  the  material  part  of  the  creation  was  formed 
for  the  sake  of  the  immaterial ;  and  of  the  latter  the 


164  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

most  momentous  characteristic  is  its  moral  and  ac- 
countable nature,  or,  in  other  words,  its  capacity  of 
virtue  and  vice ;  that  labor  cannot  want  dignity, 
which  is  exerted  in  improving  man  in  his  highest 
character,  and  fitting  him  for  his  eternal  destination. 

6.  Here  alone  is  certainty  and  durability  :  for  how- 
ever highly  we  may  esteem  the  arts  and  sciences, 
which  polish  our  species,  and  promote  the  welfare  of 
society  ;  whatever  reverence  we  may  feel,  and  ought 
to  feel,  for  those  laws  and  institutions  whence  it  de- 
rives the  security  necessary  for  enabling  it  to  enlarge 
its  resources  and  develop  its  energies,  we  cannot  for- 
get that  these  are  but  the  embellishments  of  a  scene, 
which  we  must  shortly  quit — the  decorations  of  a  the- 
atre, from  which  the  eager  spectators  and  applauded 
actors  must  soon  retire. 

7.  The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand.  Vanity  is  in- 
scribed on  every  earthly  pursuit,  on  all  sublunary  la- 
bor ;  its  materials,  its  instruments,  and  its  objects  will 
alike  perish.  An  incurable  taint  of  mortality  has 
seized  upon,  and  will  consume  them  ere  long.  The 
acquisitions  derived  from  religion,  the  graces  of  a 
renovated  mind,  are  alone  permanent. 

8.  How  high  and  awful  a  function  is  that  which 
proposes  to  establish  in  the  soul  a\i  interior  dominion — 
to  illuminate  its  powers  by  a  celestial  light — and 
introduce  it  to  an  intimate,  ineffable,  and  unchanging 
alliance  with  the  Father  of  spirits  ! 

9.  What  an  honor  to  be  employed  as  the  instru- 
ment of  conducting  that  mysterious  process  by  which 
men  are  born  of  God  ;  to  expel  from  the  heart  the 
venom  of  the  old  serpent ;  to  purge  the  conscience 


THE      CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  I§5 

from  invisible  stains  of  guilt ;  to  release  the  passions 
from  the  bondage  of  corruption,  and  invite  them  to 
soar  aloft  into  the  regions  of  uncreated  light  and 
beauty  ;  to  say  to  the  prisoners,  go  forth — to  them  that  are 
in  darkness*  shew  yourselves  I 

10.  These  are  the  fruits  which  arise  from  the  suc- 
cessful discharge  of  the  Christian  ministry  ;  these  the 
effects  of  the  Gospel,  wherever  it  becomes  the  pow- 
er of  God  unto  salvation  :  and  the  interests  which 
they  create,  the  joy  which  they  diffuse,  are  felt  in 
other  worlds. 


BOLDNESS  OF    REPROOF. 

Calvin's  Speech  to  his  flock,  on  his  return  from  exile  in  1541, 

1.  If  you  desire  to  have  me  for  your  pastor,  cor- 
rect the  disorder  of  your  lives.  If  you  have  with 
sincerity  recalled  me  from  my  exile,  banish  the  crimes 
and  debaucheries  which  prevail  among  you. 

2.  I  certainly  cannot  behold,  within  your  walls 
here,  without  the  most  painful  displeasure,  discipline 
trodden  under  foot,  and  crimes  committed  with  im- 
punity. I  cannot  possibly  live  in  a  place  so  grossly 
immoral. 

3.  Vicious  souls  are  too  filthy  to  receive  the  purity 
of  the  Gospel,  and  the  spiritual  worship  which  1 
preach  to  you.  A  life  stained  with  sin  is  too  contra- 
ry to  Jesus  Christ  to  be  tolerated. 

4.  I  consider  the  principal  enemies  of  the  Gospel 
to  be,  not  the  pontiff  of  Rome,  nor  heretics,  nor  se- 
ducers, nor  tyrants,  but  such  bad  Christians  ;  because 


166  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

the  former  exert  their  rage  out  of  the  church,  while 
drunkenness,  luxury,  perjury,  blasphemy,  impurity, 
adultery,  and  other  abominable  vices,  overthrow  my 
doctrine,  and  expose  it  defenceless  to  the  rage  of  our 
enemies. 

5.  Rome  does  not  constitute  the  principal  object 
of  my  fears.  Still  less  am  I  apprehensive  from  the 
almost  infinite  multitude  of  monks.  The  gates  of  hell, 
the  principalities  and  powers  of  evil  spirits,  disturb 
me  not  at  all. 

6.  I  tremble  on  account  of  other  enemies,  more 
dangerous ;  and  I  dread  abundantly  more  those  car- 
nal covetousnesses,  those  debaucheries  of  the  tavern, 
of  the  brothel,  and  of  gaming;  those  infamous  re- 
mains of  ancient  superstition,  those  mortal  pests,  the 
disgrace  of  your  town,  and  the  shame  of  the  reformed 
name. 

7.  Of  what  importance  is  it  to  have  driven  away 
the  wolves  from  the  fold,  if  the  pest  ravage  the 
flock  ?  Of  what  use  is  a  dead  faith,  without  good 
works  ?  Of  what  importance  is  even  truth  itself, 
where  a  wicked  life  beKes  it,  and  actions  make  words 
blush  ? 

8.  Either  command  me  to  abandon  a  second  time 
your  town,  and  let  me  go  and  soften  the  bitterness 
of  my  afflictions  in  a  new  exile,  or  let  the  severity  of 
the  laws  reign  in  the  church.  Re-establish  there 
the  pure  discipline.  Remove  from  within  your 
walls,  and  from  the  frontiers  of  your  state,  the  pest 
of  your  vices,  and  condemn  them  to  a  perpetu.',* 
banishment 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  167 

ON   INTEMPERANCE. 

From  Rev.  Dr.Appleton's  Address  before  the  Massachusetts 
Society  for  suppressing  Intemperance.    May,  1816. 

1.  Parents  may  view,  with  more  indulgence  than 
alarm,  occasional  irregularities  in  a  favorite  son.  By 
a  repetition  of  these,  some  uneasiness  is  produced  in 
spite  of  parental  partiality.  They  begin  with  sug- 
gesting cautions,  rise  to  mild  remonstrance,  and,  as 
the  case  becomes  more  urgent,  they  make  warm 
and  reiterated  appeals  to  his  regard  to  interest,  his 
love  of  character,  his  affection  for  them,  his  sense  of 
moral  obligation,  and  the  well  known  effect  of  irreg- 
ular habits  in  shortening  human  life. 

2.  They  flatter  themselves,  that  all  these  efforts 
are  not  abortive.  Some  tender  emotions,  some  in- 
genuous relentings,  are  perceived.  These  are  gladly 
hailed,  as  the  witnesses  of  penitence,  and  the  harbin- 
gers of  reformation.  Hopes  thus  suddenly  formed, 
are  found  to  be  premature.  The  anxiety  of  the  par- 
ents is  renewed  and  augmented  by  recent  evidence 
of  profligacy  in  the  son. 

3.  To  reclaim  him,  their  affection  prompts  them  to 
make  new  exertions, — to  repeat  arguments,  which 
have  hitherto  been,  found  ineffectual, — to  exhibit 
these  in  new  and  various  connexions.  From  re- 
monstrance they  proceed  to  entreaty,  to  supplication, 
and  tears.  The  old  bow  before  the  young;  the  in- 
nocent pray  to  the  guilty. 

4.  As  a  last  expedient,  they  will  change  his  place 
of  residence.  New  scenes  and  new  companions  may 
be  more  propitious  to  virtue  ;   at  least  they  will  ex- 


168  l  HE    CHRIS  i  IAN     OJtAXOJ 

hibit  fewer  temptations  to  vice.  The  experimem  13 
made,  and  with  apparent  success.  His  mind  is  so  oc- 
cupied with  new  associations,  as,  for  a  time,  to  yield 
little  attention  to  the  cravings  of  appetite. 

5.  His  friends  again  indulge  a  trembling  hope, 
that  notwithstanding  past  irregularities,  all  may  yet 
be  well.  Delightful,  but  vain  illusion  !  The  novelty 
gradually  disappears  ;  but  the  strength  of  inclination 
is  unsubdued. 

6.  The  taste,  which  has  been  so  unhappily  formed, 
is  now  incorporated  into  his  constitution, — it  has  be- 
come a  permanent  part  of  his  character  ;  it  is  always 
ready  to  be  acted  upon,  when  circumstances  are  pre- 
sented, favorable  to  its  indulgence.  He  become- 
callous  to  shame,  and  deaf  to  remonstrance. 

7.  Or,  if  there  are  some  remains  of  moral  sensi- 
bility, to  avoid  the  stings  of  solitary  reflection,  he 
seeks  relief  in  the  excitement  produced  by  dissipa- 
tion. That,  which  he  denominates  pleasure,  is 
nothing  but  a  tumultuous  agitation  of  the  passions. 
As  if  visited  by  the  curse  of  Kahama,  u  There  is  a 
fire  in  his  heart,  and  fire  in  his  brain." 

8.  I  once  knew  a  young  man  of  reputable  connex- 
ions, and  of  more  than  ordinary  powers  of  mind,  who, 
conscious  that  he  was  verging  towards  intemperance, 
commenced  his  professional  studies  in  a  place,  where 
rural  scenes,  and  the  prevailing  state  of  morals,  seem- 
ed well  calculated  to  cherish  sobriety,  and  repress 
vice.  He  profited  by  his  situation,  and  imagined, 
that  his  good  resolutions  were  gaining  strength. 

.  9.  At  one  disastrous  hour,  being  visited  by  some 
of  his  former  associates,  he  consented  to  renew,  for 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  169 

once,  the  scenes  of  their  former  conviviality.  Ecces- 
sivc-  indulgence  was  the  result.  The  hours  of  re- 
turning sobriety  were  spent  in  self  reproach.  He 
justly  considered  his  recent  defection  as  a  fatal  crisis 
in  his  probation.  Having  no  longer  any  confidence 
in  himself,  and  thinking  it  useless  to  contend,  he 
yielded  to  inclination,  and  became  its  unresisting 
captive. 

10.  Of  the  sufferings  endured  by  the  parent  of  an 
intemperate  son,  that  cruel  suspense,  already  suggest- 
ed, is  not  the  least.  His  expectations,  which,  to  day 
are  gathering  strength,  will  be  dead  to  morrow,  With 
tormenting  rapidity,  he  passes  from  hope  to  fear, 
and  from  fear  to  hope.  Nor,  because  it  will  be  un- 
availing, can  he  divest  himself  of  all  anxiety.  Nat- 
ural affection  prevents  it.  He  is,  therefore,  chained 
to  a  load,  which  is  always  ready  to  recoil  upon  him. 

11.  Id  the  case,  which  has  been  supposed,  the  dis- 
ease was  not  suffered  to  become  inveterate,  before 
remedies  were  applied.  Proportionably  greater  will 
be  the  difficulty  of  recovery,  should  the  disorder  be 
confirmed  by  long  indulgence.  To  reclaim  the  in- 
veterate drunkard,  reason  acknowledges  the  inad- 
equacy of  her  powers.  The  object  of  reasoning  is 
to  produce  conviction.  But  the  sinner  in  question  is 
convinced  already. 

12.  With  intentions,  the  purity  of  which  he  ear- 
not  call  in  question,  you  remind  him  of  his  estate, 
already  embarrassed  and  partially  squandered  ;  of  rm 
family,  either  corrupted,  or  impoverished,  degraded, 
mortified,  and  comfortless  ;  of  his  limbs,  become  fee- 
ble and  tremulous  ;  of  his  countenance,  inflamed,  dis 

P 


170  IHE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

figured,  and  rendered  at  once  the  hideous  image  of 
sin  and  death  ;  and  of  many,  whom  habits,  similar  to 
his  own,  have  brought  prematurely  to  the  grave  ; 
remind  him,  that,  in  the  death  of  these,  he  has  a 
sure  and  direful  presage  of  his  own. 

13.  In  aid  of  all  these  motives,  appeal  to  his  faith 
in  revelation ;  point  out  to  him  that  terrific  sentence, 
which  declares,  that  no  drunkard  shall  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  God — What  have  you  gained  by  all  thi^ 
array  of  motives  ?  He  acknowledges,  that  your  argu- 
ments are  conclusive,  and  that  your  remonstrances 
are  rational  and  weighty.  He  weeps  under  the 
mingled  influence  of  terror  and  self  reproach.  With- 
out being  able  to  hide  from  his  eyes  the  precipice 
before  him,  he  advances  towards  it  with  tottering, 
but  accelerated  steps.  The  grave,  ever  insatiable, 
is  prepared  for  him.  It  shrouds  hitn  from  every  eye, 
but  that  of  his  Maker. 


ALARMING    SYMPTOMS     OF    NATIONAL    DEGENERACY. 

i/rom  Rev.  R.  Hall's  Sermon  on  a  National  Fast.     1803. 

TART    I. 

i.  Among  the  most  alarming  symptoms  of  national 
degeneracy,  I  mention  a  gradual  departure  from  the 
peculiar  truths,  maxims,  and  spirit,  of  Christianity. 

2.  Christianity,  issuing  perfect  and  entire  from  the 
hands  of  its  Author,  will  admit  of  no  mutilations  nor 
improvements  ;  it  stands  most  secure  on  its  own  basis  ; 
and  without  being  indebted  to  foreign  aids,  support* 
itself  best  by  its  own  internal  vigor. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  171 

When  under  the  pretence  of  simplifying  it.  we 
attempt  to  force  it  into  a  closer  alliance  with  the  most 
approved  systems  of  philosophy,  we  are  sure  to  con- 
tract its  bounds,  and  to  diminish  its  force  and  authorit} 
over  the  consciences  of  men.  It  is  dogmatic  ;  not 
capable  of  being  advanced  with  the  progress  of  science^ 
but  fixed  and  immutable. 

4.  We  may  not  be  able  to  perceive  the  use  or  neces- 
sity of  some  of  its  discoveries,  but  they  are  not  on  this 
account  the  less  Jbinding  on  our  faith  ;  just  as  there  are 
many  parts  of  nature,  whose  purposes  we  are  at  a  loss 
to  explore,  of  which,  if  any  person  were  bold  enough 
to  arraign  the  propriety,  it  would  be  sufficient  to  reply 
that  God  made  them.  They  are  both  equally  the 
works  of  God,  and  both  equally  partake  of  the  myste- 
riousness  of  their  author. 

5.  This  integrity  of  the  Christian  faith  has  been  in- 
sensibly impaired  ;  and  the  simplicity  of  mind  with 
which  it  should  be  embraced,  gradually  diminished. 
While  the  outworks  of  the  sanctuary  have  been  de- 
fended with  the  utmost  ability,  its  interior  has  been  too 
much  neglected,  and  the  fire  upon  the  altar  suffered 
to  languish  and  deca}r. 

6.  The  truths  and  mysteries  which  distinguished 
die  Christian  from  all  other  religions,  have  been  little 
attended  to  by  some,  totally  denied  by  others  ;  and 
while  infinite  efforts  have  been  made,  by  the  utmost 
subtlety  of  argumentation,  to  establish  the  truth  and 
authenticity  of  revelation,  few  have  been  exerted  in 
comparison  to  show  what  it  really  contains. 


172  THE    CHRISTIAN     OllAi. 

7.  The  doctrines  of  the  fall  and  of  redemption,  v. 

are  the  two  grand  points  on  which  the  Christian  dispen- 
sation hinges,  have  been  too  much  neglected.  Though 
tt  has  not  yet  become  the  fashion  (God  forbid  it  eve: 
should)  to  deny  them,  we  have  been  too  much  accus- 
tomed to  confine  the  mention  of  them  to  oblique  hints, 
and  distant  allusions. 

8.  They  are  too  often  reluctantly  conceded,  rather 
than  warmly  inculcated,  as  though  they  were  the 
weaker  or  less  honorable  parts  of  Christianity,  from 
which  we  were  in  haste  to  turn  away  our  eyes,  all- 
ihough  it  is  in  reality  these  very  truths,  which  have 
in  every  age  inspired  the  devotion  of  the  church,  and 
the  rapture  of  the  redeemed. 

9.  This  alienation  from  the  distinguishing  truths  of 
our  holy  religion,  accounts  for  a  portentous  peculiarity 
among  Christians,  their  being  ashamed  of  a  book  which 
"hey  profess  to  receive  as  the  word  of  God. 

10.  The  votaries  of  all  other  religions  regard  their 
supposed  sacred  books  with  a  devotion,  which  con- 
secrates their  errors,  and  makes  their  very  absurdities 
.  enerable  in  their  eyes.  They  glory  in  that  which  is 
: tieir  shame:  we  are  ashamed  of  that  which  is  our 
^lory. 

11.  Indifference  and  inattention  to  the  truths  and 
mysteries  of  revelation,  have  led,  by  an  easy  transition. 
*o  a  dislike  and  neglect  of  the  book  which  contains 
ihem  ;  so  that,  in  a  Christian  country,  nothing  is 
i bought  so  vulgar  as  a  serious  appeal  to  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  and  the  candidate  for  fashionable  distinction 
would  rather  betray  a  familiar  acquaintance  with  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  173 

most  impure   writers,  than  with  the  words  of  Christ 
and  his  apostles. 

12.  Yet  we  complain  of  the  growth  of  infidelity, 
when  nothing  less  could  be  expected  than  that  some 
should  declare  themselves  infidels,  where  so  many  had 
completely  forgot  they  were  Christians.  They  wh© 
sow  the  seed  can  with  very  ill  grace  complain  of  the 
abundance  of  the  crop  ;  and  when  we  have  ourselves 
ceased  to  abide  in  the  words,  and  to  maintain  the  honor, 
of  the  Saviour,  we  must  not  be  "surprised  at  seeing 
some  advance  a  step  further,  by  openly  declaring  they 
are  none  of  his.  The  consequence  has  been  such  as 
might  be  expected, — an  increase  of  profaneness,  im- 
morality, and  irreligion. 

13.  The  traces  of  piety  have  been  wearing  out 
more  and  more,  from  our  conversation,  from  our  man- 
ners, from  our  popular  publications,  from  the  current 
literature  of  the  age.  In  proportion  as  the  maxims 
and  spirit  of  Christianity  have  declined,  infidelity  has 
prevailed  in  their  room ;  for  infidelity  is,  in  reality, 
nothing  more  than  a  noxious  spawn  (pardon  the  met- 
aphor) bred  in  the  stagnant  marshes  of  corrupted 
Christianity. 

PART    II. 

1.  A  lax  theology  is  the  natural  parent  of  a  lax 
morality.  The  peculiar  motives,  accordingly,  by 
which  the  inspired  writers  enforce  their  moral  les- 
sons, the  love  of  God  and  the  Redeemer,  concern  for 
the  honor  of  religion,  and  gratitude  for  the  inestima- 
ble benefits  of  the  Christian  redemption,  have  no 
P  2    • 


174  THE    CHRISTIAN    OBAT0K. 

place  in  the  fashionable  systems  of  moral  instruc- 
tion.* 

2.  The  motives  almost  exclusively  urged  are  such 
as  take  their  rise  from  the  present  state,  founded  on 
reputation,  on  honor,  on  health,  or  on  the  tendency  of 
the  things  recommended  to  promote,  under  some 
form  or  other,  the  acquisition  of  worldly  advantages. 
Thus  even  morality  itself,  by  dissociating  it  from  re- 
ligion, is  made  to  cherish  the  love  of  the  world,  and 
to  bar  the  heart  more  effectually  against  the  ap- 
proaches of  piety. 

3.  Here  I  cannot  forbear  remarking  a  great  change 
which  has  taken  place  in  the  whole  manner  of  rea- 
soning on  the  topics  of  morality  and  religion,  from 
what  prevailed  in  the  last  century,  and,  as  far  as  my 
information  extends,  in  any  preceding  age.  This, 
which  is  an  age  of  revolutions,  has   also  produced   a 

.strange  revolution  in  the  method  of  viewing  these 
subjects,  the  most  important  by  far  that  can  engage 
the  attention  of  man. 

4.  The  simplicity  of  our  ancestors,  nourished  by 
the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,  rather  than  by  the 
tenets  of  a  disputatious  philosophy,  was  content  to 
let  morality  remain  on  the  firm  basis  of  the  dictates 
of  conscience  and  the  will  of  God.  They  considered 
virtue  as  something  ultimate,  as  bounding  the  mental 
prospect.  They  never  supposed  for  a  moment  there 
was  any  thing  to  which  it  stood  merely  in  the  rela* 
tion  of  means,   or  that  within  the  narrow  confines 

*  If  the  reader  wishes  for  a  further  statement  and  illustra- 
tion of  these  melancholy  facts,  he  may  find  it  in  Mr.  Wilber- 
force's  celebrated  book  on  Religion  ;  an  inestimable  work, 
which  has,  perhaps,  done  more  than  any  other  to  rouse  the 
insensibility  and  augment  the  piety  of  the  age. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  175 

of  this   momentary    state    any    thing  great  enough 
could  be  found  to  be  its  end  or  object. 

5.  It  never  occurred  to  their  imagination,  that  that 
religion,  which  professes  to  render  us  superior  to  the 
world,  is  in  reality  nothing  more  than  an  instrument 
to  procure  the  temporal,  the  physical  good  of  indi- 
viduals, or  of  society.  In  their  view,  it  had  a  nobler 
destination;  it  looked  forward  to  eternity:  and  if 
ever  they  appear  to  have  assigned  it  any  end  or  object 
be}7ond  itself,  it  was  an  union  with  its  Author,  in  the 
perpetual  fruition  of  God. 

6.  They  arranged  these  things  in  the  following 
order :  religion,  comprehending  the  love,  fear,  and 
service  of  the  Author  of  our  being,  they  placed  first ; 
social  morality,  founded  on  its  dictates,  confirmed  by 
its  sanctions,  next ;  and  the  mere  physical  good  of 
society  they  contemplated  as  subordinate  to  both. 

7.  Every  thing  is  now  reversed.  The  pyramid  is 
inverted  :  the  first  is  last,  and  the  last  fir^t.  Religion 
is  degraded  from  its  pre-eminence,  into  the  mere 
handmaid  of  social  morality  ;  social  morality  into  an 
instrument  of  advancing  the  welfare  of  society;  and 
the  world  is  all  in  all. 


THE    HUMILITY    AND    DIGNITY    OF    THE    CHRISTIAN. 

From  a  Sermon  of  Rev.  R.  H  all. 

1.  Humility  is  the  first  fruit  of  religion.  In  the 
mouth  of  our  Lord  there  is  no  maxim  so  frequent  as 
the  following,  Whosoever  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abas- 
cof,  but  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted.  Relig- 
ion,   and  that    alone    teaches    absolute  humility,    by 


17G  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

which  I  mean,  a  sense  of  our  absolute  nothingne-.  in 
the  view  of  infinite  greatness  and  excellence. 

2.  That  sense  of  inferiority,  which  results  from  the 
comparison  of  men  with  each  other,  is  often  an  un- 
welcome sentiment  forced  upon  the  mind,  which 
may  rather  imbitter  the  temper  than  soften  it :  that 
which  devotion  impresses,  is  soothing  and  delightful. 

3.  The  devout  man  loves  to  lie  low  at  the  footstool  of 
the  Creator,  because  it  is  then  he  attains  the  most  live- 
ly perceptions  of  the  divine  excellence,  and  the  most 
tranquil  confidence  in  the  divine  favor.  In  so  august 
a  presence  he  sees  all  distinctions  lost,  and  all  beings 
reduced  to  the  same  level ;  he  looks  at  his  superiors 
without  envy,  and  his  inferiors  without  contempt ;  and 
when  from  this  elevation  he  descends  to  mix  in  socie- 
ty, the  conviction  of  superiority,  which  must  in  many 
instances  be  felt,  is  a  calm  inference  of  the  under- 
standing, and  no  longer  a  busy,  importunate  passion  of 
the  heart. 

4.  The  wicked^  says  the  Psalmist,  through  the  prich 
of  their  countenance,  will  not  seek  after  God  ;  God  is 
all  their  thoughts.  When  we  consider  the  in- 
credible vanity  of  the  atheistical  sect,  together  with 
the  settled  malignity,  and  unrelenting  rancor  with 
which  they  pursue  every  vestige  of  religion ;  is  it 
uncandid  to  suppose,  that  its  humbling  tendency  is 
one  principal  cause  of  their  enmity:  that  they  are 
eager  to  displace  a  Deity  from  the  minds  of  men, 
that  they  may  occupy  the  void ;  to  crumble  the 
throne  of  the  Eternal  into  dust,  that  they  may  elevate 
themselves  on  its  ruins ;  and  that,  as  their  licen- 
tiousness is  impatient  of  restraint,  so  their  pride  dis- 
dains a  superior  ? 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  177 

5.  As  pride  hardens  the  heart,  and  religion  is  the 
only  effectual  antidote,  the  connexion  between  irre- 
iigion  and  inhumanity  is,  in  this  view,  obvious.  But 
there  is  another  light  in  which  this  part  of  the  sub- 
ject may  be  viewed,  in  my  humble  opinion,  much 
more  important,  though  seldom  adverted  to. 

6.  The  supposition  that  man  is  a  moral  and  account- 
able being,  destined  to  survive  the  stroke  of  death, 
and  to  live  in  a  future  world  in  a-never  ending  state  of 
happiness  or  misery,  makes  him  a  creature  of  in- 
comparably more  consequence^  than  the  opposite  sup- 
position. 

7.  When  we  consider  him  as  placed  here  by  an 
almighty  Ruler  in  a  state  of  probation,  and  that  the 
present  life  is  his  period  of  trial,  the  first  link  in  a 
vast  and  interminable  chain  which  stretches  into  eter- 
nity, he  assumes  a  dignified  character  in  our  eyes, 
Every  thing  which  relates  to  him  becomes  interesting  ; 
and  to  trifle  with  his  happiness  is  felt  to  be  the  most 
unpardonable  levity. 

8.  If  such  be  the  destination  of  man,  it  is  evident, 
*bat  in  the  qualities  which  fit  him  for  it,  his  principal 
dignity  consists  :  his  moral  greatness  is  his  true 
greatness.  Let  the  skeptical  principles  be  admitted, 
which  represent  him,  on  the  contrary,  as  the  offspring 
o(  chance,  connected  with  no  superior  power,  and 
sinking  fhto  annihilation  at  death,  and  he  is  a  con- 
temptible creature,  whose  existence  and  happiness 
are  insignificant.  The  characteristic  difference  is 
lost  betwixt  him  and  the  brute  creation,  from  which 
he  is  no  longer  distinguished,  except  by  the  vividness 
and  multiplicity  of  his  perceptions 


178  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR-. 

MOTIVES    TO    SECURE    THE    BLESSINGS    OF    THE    GOSl'EL 

From  Rev.  Dr.  Dwight's  Sermon  at  the  ordination  of  Rev 
N.  W.  Taylor. 

1.  To  this'divine,  this  indispensable  employment, 
every  motive  calls  you,  which  can  reach  the  heart 
of  virtue,  or  wisdom.  The  terms,  on  which  these 
blessings  of  the  gospel  are  offered,  are  of  all  terms 
the  most  reasonable.  You  are  summoned  to  no  sac- 
rifice, but  of  sin,  and  shame,  and  wretchedness.  No 
service  is  demanded  of  you,  but  services  of  gain  and 
glory.  iC  My  son,  give  me  thine  heart  "  is  the  requisi- 
tion, which  involves  them  all. 

2.  Remember  how  vast,  how  multiplied,  how  noble, 
these  blessings  are  !  Remember,  that  the  happiness  of 
heaven  is  not  only  unmingled  and  consummate  ;  not 
only  uninterrupted  and  immortal :  but  ever  progressive. 

3.  Here  all  the  attributes  of  body  and  mind ;  the 
peace  within,  and  the  glory  without ;  the  knowledge, 
and  the  virtue  ;  the  union  of  minds,  and  the  benefi- 
cence of  the  hand  ;  gratitude  to  God,  and  his  com- 
placency in  his  children  ;  together  with  the  pecu- 
liarly divine  system  of  providence  in  that  delightful 
world  ;  will  advance  with  a  constant  step  toward- 
the  ever  retreating  goal  of  absolute  perfection. 

4.  The  sanctified  infant  will  here  hasten#mward  to 
the  station,  occupied  by  Abraham.  Moses,  and  Paul 
These  superior  intelligences  will  regularly  move 
forward  to  that  of  angels  |  and  angels  will  lift  their 
wings  to  a  summit,  to  which  hitherto  no  angel  ever 
wandered,  even  in  the  most  vigorous  excursions  of 
thought. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  179 

5.  Thus  will  this  divine  assembly  make  a  perpet- 
ual progress  in  excellence  and  enjoyment,  towards 
bounds,  which  ever  retire  before  them,  and  ever 
will  retire,  when  they  shall  have  left  the  heights,  on 
which  seraphs  now  stand,  beyond  the  utmost  stretch 
of  recollection. 

6.  To  this  scene  of  glory,  all  things  continually 
urge  you.  The  seasons  roll  on  their  solemn  course  ; 
the  earth  yields  its  increase,  to  furnish  blessings  to 
support  you.  Mercies  charm  you  to  their  Author. 
Afflictions  warn  you  of  approaching  ruin  ;  and  drive 
you  to  the  ark  of  safety.  Magistrates  uphold  order 
and  peace,  that  you  may  consecrate  your  labors  to 
the  divine  attainment. 

7.  Ministers  proclaim  to  you  the  glad  tidings  of  great 
joy  ;  and  point  out  to  you  the  path  to  heaven.  The 
Sabbath  faithfully  returns  its  mild  and  sweet  season 
of  grace,  that  earthly  objects  may  not  engross  your 
thoughts,  and  prevent  your  attention  to  immortality. 
The  sanctuary  unfolds  its  doors  ;  and  invites  you  to 
enter  in,  and  be  saved.  The  Gospel  still  shines  to 
direct  your  feet,  and  to  quicken  your  pursuit  of  the 
inestimable  prize. 

8.  Saints  wait,  with  fervent  hope  of  renewing  their 
joy  over  your  repentance.  Angels  spread  their  wings 
to  conduct  you  home.  The  Father  holds  out  the  gold- 
en sceptre  of  forgiveness,  that  you  may  touch,  and 
live.  The  Son  died  on  the  cross,  ascended  to  heaven, 
and  intercedes  before  the  throne  of  mercy,  that  you 
may  be  accepted.  The  Spirit  of  grace  and  truth  de- 
scends with  his  benevolent  influence,  to  allure  and 
persuade  you. 


180  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

9.  While  all  things,  and  God  at  the  head  of  all 
things,  are  thus  kindly  and  solemnly  employed,  to  en- 
courage you  in  the  pursuit  of  this  inestimable  good, 
will  you  forget,  that  you  have  souls,  which  must  he 
saved,  or  lost  ?  Will  you  forget,  that  the  only  time  of 
salvation  is  the  present  ?  that  beyond  the  grave  there 
is  no  Gospel  to  be  preached?  that,  there,  no  of- 
fers of  life  are  to  be  made  !  that  no  Redeemer  will 
there  expiate  your  sins  ;  and  no  forgiving  God  receive 
your  souls  ? 

10.  Of  what  immense  moment,  then,  is  the  present 
life  !  How  invaluable  every  Sabbath  ;  every  mean  of 
salvation  !  Think  how  soon  your  last  Sabbath  will 
set  in  darkness  ;  and  the  last  sound  of  mercy  die  upon 
your  ears  ?  How  painful, how  melancholy,  an  object,  to 
a  compassionate  eye,  is  a  blind,  unfeeling,  unrepent- 
ing  immortal  ! 

1 1.  But,  O  ye  children  of  Zion,  in  all  the  perplexi- 
ties and  distresses  of  life,  let  the  Gospel  be  an  anchor 
to  your  souls,  sure  and  steadfast.  To  the  attainment  of 
the  happiness,  which  it  unveils,  consecrate  every  pur- 
pos£,  and  bend  every  faculty.  In  the  day  of  sloth,  let 
it  quicken  you  to  energy.  In  the  hour  of  desponden- 
cy, let  it  reanimate  your  hope.  In  the  season  of  wo, 
let  it  pour  the  balm  of  G Head  into  your  hearts. 

12.  View  every  blessing  as  a  token  of  love  from  the 
God,  to  whom  you  are  going  ;  as  a  foretaste  of  immor- 
tal good.  Stretch  your  imaginations  to  the  utmost ; 
raise  your  wishes  higher  and  higher,  while  you  live  ; 
not  a  thought  shall  miss  its  object ;  not  a  wish  shall  be 
disappointed.  Eternity  is  now  heaping  up  its  treas- 
ures for  your  possession.'    The  voice  of  Mercy,  with 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  181 

a  sweet  and  transporting  sound,  bids  you  arise,  and 
come  away.  Your  fears,  your  sorrows,  your  sins,  will 
all  leave  you  at  the  grave. 

13.  See  the  gates  of  life  already  unfolding  to  admit 
you.  The  first-born  open  their  arms  to  welcome 
you  to  their  divine  assembly.  The  Saviour,  who  is 
gone  before  to  prepare  a  place  for  your  reception, 
informs  you,  that  all  things  are  ready.  With  triumph, 
then,  with  ecstasy,  hasten  to  enjoy  the  reward  of  his 
infinite  labors  in  an  universe  of  good,  and  in  the 
glory,  which  he  had  with  the  Father  before  ever  the 
world  was. 


THE    SURPRISE  OF  DEATH, 
From  Masillon. 

1.  The  surprise  which  you  have  to  fear  is  not 
one  of  those  rare,  singular  events  which  happen  to 
but  a  few  unhappy  persons,  and  which  it  is  more 
prudent  to  disregard,  than  to  provide  for.  It  is  not 
that  an  instantaneous,  sudden  death  may  seize  you, — - 
that  the  thunder  of  heaven  may  fall  upon  you,— 
that  you  may  be  buried  under  the  ruins  of  your 
houses, — that  a  shipwreck  may  overwhelm  you  in 
the  deep  :  nor  do  I  speak  of  those  misfortunes  whose 
singularity  renders  them  more  terrible,  but  at  the 
same  time  less  to  be  apprehended. 

2.  It  is  a  familiar  event ;  there  is  not  a  day  but 
furnishes  you  with  examples  of  it ;  almost  all  mev 
are  surprised  by  death  ;    all  see  it  approach,  when 


182  THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 

they  think  it  most  distant  ;  all  say  to  themselves, 
like  the  fool  in  the  gospel  ;  "  Soul,  take  thine  ease, 
thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years/' 

3.  Thus  have  died  your  neighbours,  your  friends, 
almost  all  those  of  whose  death  you  have  been  in- 
formed ;  all  have  left  you  in  astonishment  at  the 
suddenness  of  their  departure.  You  have  sought 
reasons  for  it,  in  the  imprudence  of  the  person  while 
sick,  in  the  ignorance  of  physicians,  in  the  choice 
of  remedies  ;  but  the  best  and  indeed  the  only  rea- 
son is,  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  always  cometh  by 
surprise. 

4.  The  earth  is  like  a  large  field  of  battle  where 
you  are  every  day  engaged  with  the  enemy ;  you 
have  happily  escaped  to-day,  but  you  have  seen 
many  lose  their  lives  who  promised  themselves  to 
escape  as  you  have  done.  To-morrow  you  must 
again  enter  the  lists ;  who  has  assured  you  that 
fortune,  so  fatal  to  others,  will  always  be  favor- 
able to  you  alone  ?  And  since  you  must  perish  there 
at  last,  are  you  reasonable  in  building  a  firm  and 
permanent  habitation,  upon  the  very  spot  which 
is  destined  to  be  your  grave  ? 

5.  Place  yourselves  in  whatever  situation  you 
please,  there  is  not  a  moment  of  time,  in  which 
death  may  not  come,  as  it  has  to  many  others  in 
similar  situations. 

6.  There  is  no  action  of  renown,  which  may  not 
be  terminated  by  the  eternal  darkness  of  the  grave  ; 
Herod  was  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  the  foolish  ap- 
plauses of  his  people  :  No  public  day  which  may 
not  finish  with   your  funeral  pomp  ;    Jezebel    was 


THE    CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  183 

thrown  headlong  from  the  window  of  her  palace,  the 
very  day  that  she  had  chosen  to  shew  herself  with 
unusual  ostentation  :  No  delicious  feast  which  may 
not  bring  death  to  you  ;  Belshazzar  lost  his  life 
when  seated  at  a  sumptuous  banquet  :  No  sleep 
which  may  not  be  to  you  the  sleep  of  death  ;  Ho- 
lofernes,  in  the  midst  of  his  army,  a  conqueror  of 
kingdoms  and  provinces,  lost  his  life  by  an  lsraelitish 
woman,  when  asleep  in  his  tent  :  No  crime  which, 
may  not  finish  your  crimes  ;  Zimri  found  an  infa- 
mous death  in  the  tents  of  the  daughters  of  Midian  : 
No  sickness  which  may  not  terminate  your  days ; 
you  very  often  see  the  slightest  infirmities  resist 
all  applications  of  the  healing  art,  deceive  the  ex- 
pectations of  the  sick,  and  suddenly  turn  to  death. 

7.  In  a  word,  imagine  yourselves  in  any  circum- 
stances of  life,  wherein  you  may  ever  be  placed, 
and  you  will  hardly  be  able  to  reckon  the  number 
of  those  who  have  been  surprised  by  death  when  in 
like  circumstances;  and  you  have  no  warrant  that 
you  shall  not  meet  with  the  same  fate.  You  acknowl- 
edge this  ;  you  own  it  to  be  true  ;  but  this  avowal, 
so  terrible  in  itself,  is  only  an  acknowledgment  which 
custom  demands  of  you,  but  which  never  leads  you 
to  a  single  precaution  to  guard  against  the  danger. 


THE    UNCERTAINTY    OF    LIFE. 

From  the  same. 
1.  The  hour   of  death  is  uncertain ;    every  year, 
every  day,  every  moment  may  be  the  last.     It  is  then 
a  mark  of  folly  to  attach  one's  self  to  any  thing  which 


184  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

may  pass  away  in  an  instant,  and  by  that  means  lose  the 
only  blessing  which  will  never  fail.  Whatever,  there- 
fore, you  do  solely  for  this  world,  should  appear  lost 
to  you  ;  since  you  have  here  no  sure  hold  of  any 
thing;  you  can  place  no  dependence  on  any  thing; 
and  you  can  carry  nothing  away  but  what  you  treas- 
ure up  for  heaven. 

2.  The  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  all  their  glo- 
ry? ought  not  to  balance  a  moment  the  interests  of 
your  eternal  state ;  since  a  large  fortune  and  an 
elevated  rank  will  not  assure  to  you  a  longer  life 
than  an  inferior  situation  ;  and  since  they  will  pro- 
dace  only  a  more  bitter  chagrin  on  your  death  beds, 
when  you  are  about  to  be  separated  from  them  for- 
ever. All  your  cares,  all  your  pursuits,  all  your  de- 
sires ought,  then,  to  centre  in  securing  a  durable  in- 
terest, an  eternal  happiness,  which  no  person  can 
ravish  from  you. 

3.  The  hour  of  death  is  uncertain  :  You  ought 
then  to  die  every  day  : — not  to  indulge  yourselves  in 
an  action  in  which  you  would  be  unwilling  to  be  sur- 
prised ; — to  consider  all  your  pursuits  as  the  pursuits 
of  a  dying  man,  who  every  moment  expects  his  soul 
will  be  demanded  of  him ; — to  perform  all  your 
works  as  if  you  were  that  instant  to  render  an  ac- 
count of  them  ; — and  since  you  cannot  answer  for 
'he  time  which  is  to  come,  so  to  regulate  the  present 
that  you  may  have  no  need  of  the  future  to  make 
reparation. 

4.  In  fine,  the  hour  of  death  is  uncertain :  Do  not 
:hen  defer  repentance  ;  do  not  delay  to  turn  to  the 
Lord  :   the  business  requires  haste.     You  cannot  as- 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR*  185 

sure  yourselves  even  of  one  day  ;  and  yet  you  put 
off  a  preparation  for  death  to  a  distant  and  uncertain 
futurity. 

5.  If  you  had  imprudently  swallowed  a  mortal 
poison,  would  you  delay,  to  some  future  time,  to 
apply  a  remedy  which  was  at  hand,  and  which  alone 
could  preserve  life  ?  Would  the  death  whicji  you 
carried  in  your  own  bosom  admit  of  delay  and  re- 
missness ?  This  is  precisely  your  condition.  If  you 
are  wise,  take  immediate  precaution. 

6.  You  carry  death  in  your  souls,  since  you  carry 
sin  there.  Hasten  then  to  apply  a  remedy  ;  every 
instant  is  precious  to  him  who  cannot  assure  himself 
of  a  single  one.  The  poisonous  draught  which  in- 
fects your  soul  will  not  permit  you  to  continue  long  ; 
the  goodness  of  God  as  yet  offers  you  a  remedy ; 
hasten  then  to  improve  it,  while  time  is  allowed  you. 

7.  Can  there  be  need  of  exhortations  to  induce  you 
to  resolve  upon  this  ?  Ought  it  not  to  suffice  that  the 
benefit  of  the  cure  is  pointed  out  to  you  ?  Would  it 
be  necessary  to  exhort  an  unfortunate  man,  borne  on 
the  billows,  to  make  efforts  to  save  himself  from  de- 
struction ?  Ought  you  then  to  have  need  of  our  min- 
istrations on  this  subject  ? 

8.  Y6ur  last  hour  is  just  at  hand  ;  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye  you  are  to  appear  before  the  tribunal 
of  your  God.  You  may  usefully  employ  the  mo- 
ment which  remains.  The  most  of  those  who  die 
daily  under  your  eyes,  suffer  that  moment  to  pass, 
and  die  without  improving  it.  You  imitate  their 
negligence  ;  the  same  fate  awaits  you ;  like  them, 
you  will  die  before  you  have  begun  to  lead  better 


186  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

lives.  They  were  warned  of  their  danger,  and  you 
also  are  warned  ;  their  unhappy  lot  makes  no  impres- 
sion upon  you,  and  the  death  which  awaits  you  will 
have  no  more  effect  upon  those   who  shall  survive. 

9.  There  is  a  succession  of  blindness  which  pi 
from  parents  to  children,  and  which   is  perpetuated 
on  the  earth  ;  all  determine  to  reform    their  lives, 
and  yet  most  people    die  before  they  commence  the 
work  of  reformation. 


THE    STATE    OF    THE    JEWS. 

By  Rev.  J.  W.  Cunningham,  before  the  London  Jews'  Society. 

PART    I. 

1.  Let  us  now  come  to  a  fourth  period,  viz.  to 
our  own  days.  And  here  it  is  necessary  to  observe 
that,  notwithstanding  the  continued  unbelief  and  dis- 
obedience of  the  Jews,  the  merciful  intentions  of  God 
towards  his  prostrate  people  are  as  obvious  and  prom- 
inent now,  as  at  any  other  period  of  their  history. 

2.  It  is  true  that  they  are  fallen, — fallen  as  those 
must  expect  to  fall,  who  "  trample  under  foot  the 
Son  of  God,  and  count  the  blood  of  the  covenant  an 
unholy  thing"" — fallen  as  you  and  I  must  expect  to 
fall,  if,  when  God  stretches  out  the  golden  sceptre  of 
mercy,  we  refuse  to  take  hold  of  it. 

3.  They  are  indeed  fallen, — but  is  the  patience  of 
God,  therefore,  towards  them  exhausted,— has  he  no 
mercies  in  store  for  them,— does  he  mean  to  leave 
them  in  the  dust,— shall  the  banner  of  falsehood  for- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  187 

ever  float  upon  the  towers  of  the  Holy  City, — shall 
the  daughter  of  Zion  sit  forever  in  her  gate  mourn- 
ing and  desolate  ? 

4.  u  Search  the  scriptures,"  my  brethren,  unrol 
any  page  of  the  prophetical  volume,  and  what  do  you 
find  ?  Promises  I  may  venture  to  say,  almost  count- 
less in  their  number,  and  immeasurable  in  their  ex- 
tent, renewing  to  the  Jews  the  charter  of  their  hopes, 
and  triumphs,  and  joys,  promising  the  Messiah  for  a 
King,  and  "  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  their 
possession  !" 

5.  "  I  will  strengthen  the  house  of  Judah,  and  I 
will  save  the  house  of  Joseph;  and  I  will  bring  them 
again  to  place  them ;  for  I  have  mercy  upon  them, 
and  they  shall  be  as  though  I  had  not  cast  them  off;' 
for  I  am  the  Lord  their  God,  and  I  will  hear  them  ;  1 
will  hiss  for  them,  and  gather  them ;  for  I  have  re- 
deemed them  :  They  shall  remember  me  in  far 
countries  ;  and  they  shall  live  with  their  children, 
and  turn  again." — But  it  is  needless  to  multiply  ex- 
tracts of  this  kind.  They  abound  in  the  sacred  vol- 
ume. 

6.  Whenever  the  harp  of  Zion  sounds,  the  song  of 
their  future  triumph  is  heard.  Whenever  the  hand 
of  prophecy  rends  the  veil  from  future  events,  and 
displays  to  us  the  glories  of  the  last  days,  it  always 
points  to  the  Jews  as  first  in  the  procession  of  wor- 
thies— as  leading  the  march  of  universal  victory — as 
resuming  their  lost  precedency  over  an  evangelized 
world. 

7.  The  ultimate  triumphs  of  Christianity  itself  are 
represented  as,  in  a  measure,  suspended  upon  the 


188  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

conversion  of  the  Jews.  The  world  is  to  wait  for 
them.  The  hand  of  eternal  mercy  is  to  be  unchain- 
ed only  by  their  conversion.  The  earth  is  not  to  be 
watered  by  the  richest  dews  of  heaven,  till  the  vine 
flourishes  upon  the  holy  hill. 

8.  The  principle  on  wThich  the  Society  pro- 
ceeds, is  this  :  It  discovers  in  the  sacred  writings  a 
general  injunction  to  preach  the  gospel  to  all  na- 
tions. No  people  being  excluded  from  the  blessing, 
the  servant  of  God  naturally  searches  out  those  points 
of  the  universe  where  his  attempts  are  likely  to  be 
most  profitably  conducted.  Amongst  others,  he  finds 
a  people  partly  mixed  up  with  the  mass  of  Christian 
society,  and  partly  collected  in  the  very  centre  of 
Europe ;  either  living  in  the  light  of  Christianity,  or 
touching  upon  the  confines  of  it. 

9.  He  finds,  moreover,  that  the  conversion  of  that 
nation,  thus  eligibly  circumstanced  for  instruction,  is 
to  precede  the  general  conversion  of  the  world.  He 
discovers  that  this  people  have  always  been  a  pecu- 
liar object  of  the  divine  dispensations,  and  that  almost 
every  movement  of  Providence  points  to  them.    . 

10.  Is  it  then  wonderful  that  their  conversion 
should  become  a  favorite  object  to  the  devout  stu- 
dent of  the  Bible, — that  he  should  begin  his  labors 
at  a  point,  where  he  knows  that  partial  success  will 
pave  the  way  to  the  general  success, — that  he  should 
cheer  his  fainting  hopes  with  looking  on  the  star 
which  God  hath  lighted  up  in  the  dark  horizon  of 
Judea, — that  he  should  follow  its  guidance,  and 
should  there  choose  to  combat  with  unbelief,  at  the 
point  where  the  triumph  of  faith  is  to  be  achieved  ? 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOS,  189 


PART    II. 


1.  It  has  been  said  by  some,  "We  discover  no 
particular  encouragement  to  undertake  the  conver- 
sion of  the  Jews  at  the  present  moment,  either  in 
the  present  circumstances  of  our  own  country,  or  in 
those  of  the  world  in  general." 

2.  To  this,  I  reply,  that  I  do  discover  such  en- 
couragement. I  discover  it  in  the  dislocation  of  the 
Mahometan  power,  which  has  always  been  the  grand 
political  barrier  to  Jewish  restoration.  I  discover  it 
in  the  concurrent  testimony  of  the  most  able  interpre- 
ters of  prophecy,  that  the  period  for  the  restoration 
of  the  Jews  is  fast  approaching.  I  discover  it  in  the 
fact  that  many  of  the  Jews  themselves  entertain  the 
same  opinion.  I  discover  it  in  the  remarkable  cir- 
cumstance, which  seems  to  be  well  authenticated,  of 
many  Jews  having  manifested  of  late  a  singular  dispo- 
sition to  migrate  to  their  own  land. 

3.  I  discover  it  in  the  unprecedented  facilities 
provided  in  our  own  age  and  country,  by  our  com- 
mercial connexions,  and  above  all,  by  the  very  gen- 
eral spirit  of  religious  zeal  and  enterprise  which  God 
has  so  mercifully  awakened  in  this  favored  country, 
I  discover  it  in  the  means  supplied  for  the  opera- 
tions of  this  Society,  and  the  operations  of  other  So- 
cieties ;  by  the  circulation  of  Bibles,  and  of  Mission- 
aries abroad,  and  by  the  erection  of 'schools,  upon 
a  new    and  powerful  principle  at  home. 

4.  I  discover  it  in  the  fact  of  the  almost  instan- 
taneous ejection  of  a  Society,  combining  so  much  of 


190  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

the  virtue,  talents,  and  wealth  of  the  country,  and 
successful  beyond  all  hope  in  its  application  to  public 
benevolence.  These  are  facilities,  my  brethren, 
which,  in  my  judgment,  no  individual  can  safely  neg- 
lect to  employ.  These  are  calls  which  I,  for  one, 
am  afraid  not  to  obey. 

5.  We  have  much  lost  time  to  redeem, — many 
past  injuries  to  cancel,5 — many  and  countless  obliga- 
tions to  this  afflicted  people  to  repay.  As  I  stand 
here  I  seem  to  hear  the  voices  of  those  Jews  who  e- 
vangelized  the  world,  calling  for  some  return  to  their 
country.  I  hear  again  the  voice  of  Him,  who  conde- 
scended to  spring  from  a  Jewish  mother,  and  to  dwell 
upon  its  favored  soil,  calling  upon  us  to  teach  all  na- 
tion, "  beginning  at  Jerusalem"  And  hearing  such 
invitations,  I  desire  myself  to  obey  them  ;  and  I  feel 
it  incumbent  on  me  to  say  to  you — Come,  and  let  us 
join  hand  and  heart  in  this  great  work. 

PART    III. 

1.  I  remember  to  have  heard  the  late  venerable 
Bishop  Porteus,  not  long  before  his  death,  standing  as 
it  were  upon  the  verge  of  heaven,  and  thence,  per- 
haps, catching  some  more  than  common  glimpse  of 
the  glories  within,  use  his  expiring  strength  to  stimu- 
late his  countrymen  to  become  the  Apostles  of  the 
land  of  Israel.  And  surely  there  is  no  title  and  no 
apostleship,   which  we  should  more  anxiously  covet. 

2.  There  are  some  who  imagine  that  we  are  too 
prodigal  in  the  distribution  of  the  Bible.  To  them  I 
say— look  at  Judea.  Behold  a  people  suffering  a 
famine  of  the  word  of  God.     Remember  that  Chris- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  191 

tians  have  never  repaid  the  ancient  people  of  God 
for  the  gift  of  their  Scriptures,  by  the  present  of  ours 
in  their  own  language.  Remember  that  the  oracles  of 
the  promised  land  are  now  silenced,  the  Urim  and  the 
Thummim  removed,  the  Shechinah  withdrawn,  the 
altar  overthrown,  and  its  fires  extinguished. 

3.  Instead  then  of  indulging  a  penurious  spirit 
in  the  distribution  of  these  celestial  treasures,  as  you 
have  freely  received,  freely  give.  Endeavor  to 
turn  back  the  stream  of  divine  knowledge  to  fertilize 
the  land  in  which  it  rose. 

4.  There  are  others  who  conceive  that  our 
Missionary  efforts  are  fruitlessly  exhausted  in  barbar- 
ous regions.  To  them  I  say — Behold  in  Judea  a 
sphere  precisely  adapted  to  your  wishes.  You  may 
there  find  the  mind  in  every  stage  of  advancement  or 
degradation,  from  the  wandering  Arab,  to  the  super- 
stitious Monk. 

5.  You  may  there  try  every  experiment  upon 
men,  which  zeal  or  benevolence  can  dictate.  You 
may  there,  under  the  divine  blessing,  attempt  the 
work  of  evangelizing  under  every  modification  ; 
either,  as  it  were,  to  hew  out  the  Christian  from  the 
rock  of  Mahometanism,  or  to  chisel  and  mould  him 
to  the  standard  of  the  sanctuary  from  the  disfigured 
forms  of  popery. 

6.  You  have,  there,  in  short,  a  sphere  of  Mis- 
sionary enterprise,  in  which  literature  and  talents 
may  assist  to  do  the  work  of  religion ;  in  which  the 
genius  of  devotion  may  be  still  supposed  to  linger ; 
in  which  a  new  spark  may  re-illumine  the  decayed 
fires,  where  zeal,  instead  of  exhausting  itself  in  the 
unpropitious  atmosphere  of  idolatry,  will  be  refresh- 


192  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ed  by  every  surrounding  scene — where  the  Missiona- 
ry will  see  in  every  spot  some  beacon  for  the  apos- 
tate, some  record  for  the  religion  of  his  fathers,  some 
memorial  of  his  Saviour  and  his  God. 


VANITY    OF    WORLDLY    GOOD. 

From  a  Sermon  of  Rev.  Dr.  D  wight,  delivered  after  his  re- 
covery from  a  severe  sickness,  to  the  students  of  Yale 
College.    June,  1816. 

1.  u  To  him  who  stands  on  the  brink  of  the  grave, 
and  the  verge  of  eternity,  who  retains  the  full  pos- 
session of  his  reason,  and  who  at  the  same  time  is  dis- 
posed to  serious  contemplation,  all  these  things  become 
mightily  changed  in  their  appearance.  To  the  eye 
of  such  a  man,  their  former  alluring  aspect  vanishes, 
and  they  are  seen  in  a  new  and  far  different  light. 

2.  "  Like  others  of  our  race,  1  have  relished  seve- 
ral of  these  things,  with  at  least  the  common  at- 
tachment. Particularly,  I  have  coveted  reputation 
and  influence,  to  a  degree  which  I  am  unable  to  jus- 
tify. Nor  have  I  been  insensible  to  other  earthly 
gratifications ;  either  to  such,  as,  when  enjoyed  with 
moderation,  are  innocent ;  or,  such  as  cannot  be  pur- 
sued without  sin. 

3.  "  But  in  the  circumstances  to  which  I  have  re- 
ferred, all  these  things  were  vanishing  from  my 
sight.  Had  they  been  really  valuable  in  any  sup- 
posable  degree,  their  value  was  gone.  They  could 
not  relieve  me  from  pain  ;  they  could  not  restore 
me  to  health  ;  they  could  not  prolong  my  life  ;  they 


ikiE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  193 

could   promise    me   no   good   in   the    life  to  come. 
What  then  were  these  things  to  me  ? 

4.  — A  person,  circumstanced  in  the  manner, 
which  has  been  specified,  must  necessarily  regard 
these  objects,  however  harmless,  or  even  useful, 
they  may  be  supposed  in  their  nature,  as  having 
been  hostile  to  his  peace,  and  pernicious  to  his  well- 
being.  In  all  his  attachment  to  them,  in  all  his  pur- 
suit of  them,  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  fail  of  per- 
ceiving, that  he  forgot  the  interests  of  his  soul,  and 
the  commands  of  his  Maker;  became  regardless  of 
his  duty,  and  his  salvation  ;  and  hazarded  for  dross 
and  dirt,  the  future  enjoyment  of  a  glorious  immor- 
tality. 

5.  It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive,  that  in  the 
most  unlimited  possession  of  them,  the  soul  would 
have  been  beggared,  and  undone  ;  that  the  gold  of 
the  world  would  not  have  made  him  rich  ;  nor  its 
esteem  honorable  ;  nor  its  favor  happy.  For  this 
end  he  will  discover,  that  nothing  will  suffice  but 
treasure  laid  up  in  heaven ;  the  loving-kindness  of 
God  ;  and  the  blessings  of  life  eternal. 

6.  Let  me  exhort  you,  my  young  friends,  now 
engaged  in  the  ardent  pursuit  of  worldly  enjoyments, 
to  believe,  that  you  will  one  day  see  them  in  the 
very  light  in  which  they  have  been  seen  by  me. 
The  attachment  to  them  which  you  so  strongly  feel, 
is  unfounded,  vain,  full  of  danger,  and  fraught  with 
ruin.  You  will  one  day  view  them  from  a  dying  b<vi. 
There,  should  you  retain  your  reason,  they  will  ap* 
pear  as  they  really  are. 

R 


1(J4  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

7.  They  will  (hen  be  seen  to  have  two  totally 
opposite  faces.  Of  these  you  have  hitherto  seen 
but  one.  That,  gay,  beautiful,  and  alluring  as  it  now 
appears,  will  then  be  hidden  from  your  sight ;  and 
another,  which  you  have  not  seen,  deformed,  odious, 
and  dreadful,  will  stare  you  in  the  face,  and  fill  you 
with  amazement  and  bitterness.  No  longer  pretend- 
ed friends,  and  real  flatterers;  they  will  unmask 
themselves ;  and  appear  only  as  tempters,  deceivers, 
and  enemies,  who  stood  between  you  and  heaven  ; 
persuaded  you  to  forsake  your  God;  and  cheated 
you  out  of  eternal  life. 


ON    DUELLING. 

From  Rev.  Dr.  Mason's  Oration  on  the  Death  of  General 
Hamilton.     1804. 

1.  Sad,  my  fellow-citizens,  are  the  recollections 
and  forebodings  which  the  present  solemnities  force 
upon  the  mind.  Five  years  have  not  elapsed  since 
your  tears  flowed  for  the  Father  of  your  country, 
and  you  are  again  assembled  to  shed  them  over  her 
eldest  Son.  No,  it  is  not  an  illusion — would  to  God 
it  were  :  Your  eyes  behold  it  :  the  Urn  which  bore 
the  ashe3  of  Washington,  is  followed  by  the  Urn' 
which  bears  the  ashes  of  Hamilton. 

2.  Fathers,  friends,  countrymen !  the  grave  of 
Hamilton  speaks.  It  charges  me  to  remind  you  that 
he  fell  a  victim,  not  to  disease  nor  accident ;  not  to 
the  fortune  of  glorious  warfare  ;  but,  how  shall  1 
utter  it?  to  a  custom  which  has  no  origin  but  su- 
perstition, no  aliment  but  depravity,  no  reason  but 
in  mad:^S3.     Alas  !    that  he  should  thus  expose   his 


iHE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  195 

precious    life.       This    was    his   error.      A  thousand 
bursting  hearts  reiterate,  this  was  his  error. 

3.  Shall  I  apologize  ?  I  am  forbidden  by  his  living 
protestations,  by  his  dying  regrets,  by  his  wasted 
blood.  Shall  a  solitary  act  into  which  he  was  be- 
trayed  and  dragged,  have  the  authority  of  a  pre- 
cedent ?  The  plea  is  precluded  by  the  long  decisions 
of  his  understanding,  by  the  principles  of  his  con- 
science, and  by  the  reluctance  of  his  heart.  Ah  ! 
when  will  our  morals  be  purified,  and  an  imaginary 
honor  cease  to  cover  the  most  pestilent  of  human 
passions  ? 

4.  My  appeal  is  to  military  men.  Your  honor  is 
sacred.  Listen.  Is  it  honorable  to  enjoy  the  es- 
teem of  the  wise  and  good?  The  wise  and  good  turn 
with  disgust  from  the  man  who  lawlessly  aims  at  his 
neighbours  life.  Is  it  honorable  to  serve  your 
country  ?  That  man  cruelly  injures  her,  who,  from 
private  pique,  calls  his  fellow-citizen  into  the  dubious 
field. 

5.  Is  fidelity  honorable  ?  That  man  forswears  his 
faith,  who  turns  against  the  bowels  of  his  country- 
men, weapons  put  into  his  hand  for  their  defence. 
Are  generosity,  humanity,  sympathy,  honorable  ? 
That  man  is  superlatively  base,  who  mingles  the 
tears  of  the  widow  and  orphan,  with  the  blood  of  a 
husband  and  father.  Do  refinement,  and  courtesy, 
and  benignity,  entwine  with  the  laurels  of  the  brave  ? 
The  blot  is  yet  to  be  wiped  from  the  soldiers  name, 
that  he  cannot  treat  his  brother  with  the  decorum  of 
a  gentleman,  unless  the  pistol  or  the  dagger  be  every^ 
moment  at  his  heart.       Let  the  votaries  of  honor 


196  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

now  look   at  their  deed.     Let  them   compare  their 
doctrine  with  this  horrible  comment. 

6.  My  countrymen,  the  land  is  defiled  with  blood 
unrighteously  shed.  Its  cry,  disregarded  on  earth, 
has  gone  up  to  the  throne  of  God  ;  and  this  day  does 
our  punishment  reveal  our  sin.  It  is  time  for  us  to 
awake.  The  voice  of  moral  virtue,  the  voice  of  do- 
mestic alarm,  the  voice  of  the  fatherless  and  widow, 
the  voice  of  a  nation's  wrong,  the  voice  of  Hamil- 
ton's blood,  the  voice  of  impending  judgment,  calls 
for  a  remedy. 

7.  At  this  hour  Heaven's  high  reproof  is  sounding 
from  Maine  to  Georgia,  and  from  the  shores  of  the 
Atlantic  to  the  banks  of  the  Missisippi.  If  we  refuse 
obedience,  every  drop  of  blood  spilled  in  single  com- 
bat, will  lie  at  our  door,  and  will  be  recompensed 
when  our  cup  is  full.  We  have,  then,  our  choice, 
either  to  coerce  iniquity,  or  prepare  for  desolation  ; 
and  in  the  mean  time,  to  make  our  nation,  though  in- 
fant in  years,  yet  mature  in  vice,  the  scorn  and  the 
abhorrence  of  civilized  man  ! 

8.  Fathers,  friends,  countrymen  !  the  dying  breath 
of  Hamilton  recommended  to  you  the  Christian's 
hope.  His  single  testimony  outweighs  all  the  cavils 
of  the  sciolist,  and  all  the  jeers  of  the  profane. 

9.  Who  will  venture  to  pronounce  a  fable,  that 
doctrine  of  "  life  and  immortality,"  which  his  pro- 
found and  irradiating  mind  embraced  as  the  truth  of 
God  ?  WThen  you  are  to  die,  you  will  find  no  source 
of  peace  but  in  the  faith  of  Jesus.  Cultivate  for  your 
present  repose  and  your  future  consolation,  what  our 
departed  friend  declared  to  be  the  support  of  his  ex- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  197 

piring  moments  : — "  A  tender  reliance  on  the  mercies 
of  the  Almighty,  through  the  merits  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ." 


EXTRACT    FROM    CHRYSOSTOM's     DISCOURSE    ON    EUTROPIUS' 
DISGRACE.* 

1.  Where  is  now  that  splendor  of  the  most  exalt- 
ed dignities  ?  Where  are  those  marks  of  honor  and 
distinction?  What  is  become  of  that  pomp  of  feasting 
and  rejoicings  ?  What  is  the  issue  of  those  frequent 
acclamations,  and  extravagantly  flattering  encomi- 
ums, lavished  by  a  whole  people  assembled  in  the 
Circus  to  see  the  public  shews?  A  single  blast  of 
wind  has  stript  that  proud  tree  of  ail  its  leaves  ;  and, 
after  shaking  its  very  roots,  has  forced  it  in  an  in- 
stant out  of  the  earth.  Where  are  those  false  friends, 
those  vile  flatterers,  those  parasites  so  assiduous  in 
making  their  court,  and  iu  discovering  a  servile  at- 
tachment by  their  words  and  actions  ?  All  this  is  gone 
and  fled  away,  like  a  dream,  like  a  flower,  like  a 
shadow. 

2.  Had  I  not  just  reason,  Eutropius,  to  set  before 
you  the  inconstancy  of  riches  ?  You  now  have  found 
by  your  own  experience,  that,  like  fugitive  slaves, 
they  have  abandoned  you  ;  and  are  become,  in  some 
measure,  traitors  and  murderers  with  regard  to  you, 
since  they  are  the  principal  cause  of  your  fall.     I  of-' 

•Eutrcpius  was  a  favorite  of  the  Emperor  Arcadius,  and 
an  enemy  .to  the  church  Arcadius  was  at  length  obliged  to 
abandon  him,  and  he  was  reduced  from  the  highest"  pitch  of 
grandeur,  into  an  abyss  of  misery. 

R  2 


198  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ten  repeated  to  you,  that  you  ought  to  have  a  greater 
regard  to  my  admonitions,  how  grating  soever  they 
might  appear,  than  to  the  insipid  praises  which  flat- 
terers were  perpetually  lavishing  on  you,  because 
faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend  ;  but  the  kisses  of 
an  enemy  are  deceitful* 

3.  Had  I  not  just  reason  to  address  you  in  this 
manner?  What  is  become  of  the  croud  of  courtiers? 
They  have  turned  their  backs  ;  they  have  renounced 
your  friendship ;  and  are  solely  intent  upon  their  own 
interest  and  security,  even  at  the  expense  of  yours. 
We  submitted  to  your  violence  in  the  meridian  of 
your  fortune,  and,  now  you  are  fallen,  we  support 
you  to  the  utmost  of  our  power.  The  Church, 
against  which  you  have  warred,  opens  its  bosom  to 
receive  you  ;  and  the  theatres,  the  eternal  object  of 
your  favor,  which  had  so  often  drawn  down  your  indig- 
nation upon  us,  have  abandoned  and  betrayed  you. 

4.  I  do  not  speak  this  to  insult  the  misfortunes  of 
him  who  is  fallen,  nor  to  open  and  make  wounds 
smart  that  are  still  bleeding  ;  but  in  order  to  support 
those  who  are  standing,  and  teacli  them  to  avoid  the 
like  evils.  And  the  only  way  to  avoid  these,  is,  to 
be  fully  persuaded  of  the  frailty  and  vanity  of  worldly 
grandeurs.  To  call  them  a  flower,  a  blade  of  grass, 
a  smoke,  a  dream,  is  not  saying  enough,  since  they 
are  even  below,  nothing.  Of  this  we  have  a  very 
sensible  proof  before  our  eyes. 

5.  What  man  ever  rose  to  such  an  height  of  gran- 
deur? Was  he  not  immensely  rich  ?  Did  he  not  pos- 
sess every  dignity  ?  Did  not  the  whole  empire  btand 

*  Prov.  xxvii.  6, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  199 

in  fear  of  him?  And  now,  more  deserted,  and  trembling 
still  more,  than  the  meanest  of  unhappy  wretches, 
than  the  vilest  slave,  than  the  prisoners  confined  in 
dungeons  ;  having  perpetually  before  his  eyes  swords 
unsheathed  to  destroy  himself ;  torments  and  execu- 
tioners !  deprived  of  day-light  at  noon7day,  and  ex- 
pecting, every  moment,  that  death  which  perpetual- 
ly stares  him  in  the  face  ! 

6.  You  were  witnesses  yesterday,  when  people 
came  from  the  palace  in  order  to  drag  him  hence, 
how  he  ran  to  the  holy  altars,  shivering  in  every 
limb  ;  pale  and  dejected,  scarce  uttering  a  word  but 
what  was  interrupted  by  sobs  and  groans,  and  rather 
dead  than  alive.  I  again  repeat,  I  do  not  declaim  in 
this  manner  in  order  to  insult  this  fall,  but  to  move 
and  affect  you  by  the  description  of  his  calamities, 
and  inspire  you  with  tenderness  and  compassion  for 
one  so  wretched. 


UTILITY    OF    TRACTS. 

From  the  6th  Report  of  the  Methodist  Tract  Society  in  Shef- 
field, (Eng.)  written  by  the  poet  Montgomery. 

1.  There  are  persons  who  never  read  the  word  of 
God,  who  never  attend  public  worship,  and  who,  from 
heedlessness,  prejudice  or  hatred,  concern  not  them- 
selves about  the  things  that  belong  to  their  peace. 
A  tract  is  a  missile  weapon,  which  the  Spirit  of  God 
may  direct  to  the  conviction  and  conversion  of  a  sin- 
ner, unassailable  from  any  other  quarter. 

2.  It  falls  in  the  way  of  such  an  one, — he  would 
be  asham'ed  to  look  at  it  among  his  companions,  but 


200  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

he  is  alone,  and  he  has  nothing  else  to  da, — some- 
thing in  the  title  attracts  his  eye, — its  hrevity  tempts 
his  indolence, — he  begins  to  read  it  with  indiffer- 
ence, perhaps  with  repugnance  ;  hut  his  curiosity  he- 
ing  excited,  and  feeling  himself  more  and  more  inter- 
ested, he  proceeds  with  diminishing  prejudice  and 
increasing  seriousness  to  the  end. 

3.  He  has  got  through  it,  but  he  has  not  done  with 
it  ;  he  lays  it  out  of  his  hand,  but  he  cannot  lay  it  out 
of  his  mind  ;  its  story  has  not  passed  through  his  im- 
agination on\f$  like  an  arrow  through  the  invulnera- 
ble, but  it  has  pierced  his  heart,  his  understanding, 
his  conscience,  and  in  each  it  has  left  a  wound,  that 
cannot  be  healed  ;  the  anguish  of  which  is  only  in- 
flamed by  vain  arts  to  assuage  it  ;  for  the  more  he 
shuns  the  recollection  of  the  things  that  alarmed  him, 
the  closer  they  haunt  him  ;  and  the  very  attempt  to 
forget  the  words,  indelibly  fixes  them  in  his  remem- 
brance. 

4.  In  his  distress  he  seeks  pleasure  where  former- 
ly he  found  it,  but  he  finds  it  no  more  ;  he  seeks  rest 
in  unbelief  and  obduracy,  but  rest  is  no  more  there  ; 
his  peace  is  slain  ;  the  world  can  never  again  be  to 
him  what  it  has  been  ; — -happiness  and  repose  he 
must  possess  in  religion,  or  renounce  all  prospect  of 
either  for  ever.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  when  every 
refuge  of  lies  has  failed  him,  he  lays  hold  of  the  hope 
set  before  him  in  the  gospel,  and  in  bitterness  of  soul 
exclaims,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?"— The  an- 
swer is  nigh  unto  him  ;  he  finds  it  in  the  very  page 
that  condemned  him  ;— "  Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved."  He  does  believe, 
and  he  is  saved. 


0 
THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  201 

5.  This  is  merely  stating  a  single  example*,  among 
:housands  that  do,  and  millions  that  might  occur,  in 
the  course  of  Providence,  if  these  small  but  effectual 
calls  to  repentance  were  universally  and  abundantly 
distributed.  We  say  universally  and  abundantly^ — be- 
cause though  a  few  tracts,  carefully  scattered,  may 
and  must  do  good,  yet  what  can  be  produced  by  sup- 
plies so  disproportioned  to  the  wants  of  mankind,  but 
here  a  blade  of  grass,  and  there  perhaps  a  flower, 
where  all  was  barren  before,  and  where  all  is  still  bar- 
ren around  ?  whereas,  to  make  the  wilderness  and  the 
solitary  place  to  rejoice,  and  the  desert  to  blossom 
like  the  rose,  we  must,  in  our  measure,  imitate  the 
bounty  of  our  heavenly  Father,  who  causes  the  sun  in 
his  progress  to  shine  on  every  spot  of  land  and  sea  ; 
and  his  rain  to  fall  on  the  rock  and  the  highway, 
as  well  as  on  the  fertile  plain  and  the  cultured  gar- 
den. 

6.  A  tract  lying  in  a  cottage  window  is  a  preacher, 
with  a  message  from  God  to  every  one  who  takes  it 
up.  This  Preacher  will  be  instant  in  season  and  out 
of  season  ;  it  will  wait  patiently  till  it  can  deliver  its 
message,  and  it  will  deliver  it  fully,  faithfully,  with- 
out apology,  equivocation,  or  respect  of  persons  ;  it 
will  fearlessly  tell  the  truth,  and  we  hope  nothing 
but  the  truth  :  it  will  speak  to  the  conscience,  and  it 
will  teach  the  conscience  to  speak, 


-02  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 


CHARACTER    OF    RICHARD    REYNOLDS. 

From  a  Speech  of  Rev.  Mr.  Thrope,  at  the  first  Anniversa- 
ry Meeting  of  the  Reynolds  Commemoration  Society  at 
Bristol,  (England)  1816. 

PART    I. 

1.  "When  a  person  of  brilliant  and  dazzling  talents 
is  suddenly  thrown  upon  the  world,  it  is  common  to 
inquire  into  his  birth  and  parentage  ;  his  education 
and  manner  of  life,  the  incidents  of  his  childhood,  and 
of  his  youth  ;  to  analyze,  if  I  may  so  speak,  the  ele- 
ments of  which  his  character  is  composed  ;  to  mark 
the  steps  by  which  he  rose  to  that  point,  from  which 
be  burst  upon  society  ;  in  a  word,  to  examine  and  re- 
examine the  validity  of  his  claims  to  public  attention. 

2.  In  like  manner,  when  character  of  singular  and 
transcendent  moral  excellence  is  held  up  to  public 
view,  and  attracts  universal  admiration,  it  is  natural  to 
inquire  into  its  origin  and  connections ;  the  principles 
hy  which  he  was  actuated,  and  the  school  whence 
those  principles  were  derived. 

3.  Such  a  character  was  Richard  Reynolds.  So 
modest,  and  yet  so  dignified  ;  so  judicious,  and  yet  so 
liberal  in  the  distribution  of  his  bounties  ;  so  discrim- 
inating and  successful  in  the  detection  of  imposture, 
and  yet  so  unbounded  in  his  benevolence  ;  combin- 
ing, as  he  did,  such  unbending  integrity  with  so  much 
tenderness  of  heart — u  take  him,  all  in  a//,  we  ne^er  shall 
look  upon  his  like  again."  In  a  world  like  this,  defil- 
ed by  sin  and  sunk  in  selfishness,  such  exalted  char- 
acters are  rarely  to  be  found. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR*  205 

4.  The  same  rank  that  Milton  holds  among  the  po- 
ets ;  the  same  rank  that  Nelson  holds  among  the  com- 
manders of  the  British  navy  ;  the  same  rank,  outshin- 
ing with  a  milder  lustre,  does  Reynolds  hold  amongst 
the  philanthropists,  who  in  different  ages,  have  ap- 
peared the  delight  and  wonder  of  mankind. 

5.  We  admire  the  imagination  of  the  poet :  we  are 
astonished  at  the  bravery  of  the  warrior  :  but  love, 
reverence,  and  admiration,  exert  all  their  powers,  and 
rise  into  rapture,  while  we  contemplate  the  virtues 
and  the  labors  of  the  philanthropist. 

6.  We  become  weary  amidst  the  imaginary  scenes 
and  imaginary  worlds  into  which  we  are  conducted  by 
the  enchanting  wand  of  the  poet ;  and  gladly  descend 
to  earth  again,  that  we  may  hold  converse  with  being9 
like  ourselves.  We  turn  with  horror  and  consterna- 
tion from  the  blood  and  carnage,  the  piercing  shrieks, 
the  dying  groans,  the  mutilated  limbs,  and  all  the  migh- 
ty havock  inflicted  by  the  sword  of  the  conqueror. 

7.  But  we  follow  without  weariness  the  footsteps  of 
the  philanthropist,  whithersoever  he  goes.  With  si- 
lent wonder  we  attend  him  in  his  visits  to  the  hut  of 
cheerless  poverty  ;  the  abodes  of  age  and  decrepi- 
tude ;  the  cottage  of  industry,  sunk  in  disease  and 
maimed  by  misfortune  ;  the  habitation  of  the  weeping 
widow,  and  her  helpless,  unconscious  orphans  ;  the 
hovel  of  wretchedness  and  black  despair  ;  and  without 
reluctance — nay,  with  cheerful  steps,  we  descend 
with  him  to  the  dungeon  of  misery  and  guilt,  the  last, 
the  lowest  stage  of  infamy  and  wo. 

8.  With  pleasure,  such  as  charity  only  knows,  we 
behold  a  new  creation  in  the  moral  world,  rising  be- 

- 


* 


204  THE    CHRISTI^ft    ORATOR* 

fore  the  god-like  man.  The  furrowed  check  ii 
smoothed,  and  the  winter  of  age  wears  the  aspect  of 
spring;  the  hut  of  poverty  is  no  longer  cheerless  ; 
industry  is  restored  to  health  and  vigor,  and  plies  its 
wonted  task ;  the  widow  wipes  away  her  tears,  and 
smiles  ;  her  orphans  have  enough,  and  her  house  is 
no  longer  the  house  of  mourning  ;  hope  illumines  and 
expands  the  countenance,  where  despair  had  darkened 
and  contracted  every  muscle  ;  and  penitence  descends 
to  enlighten  the  dungeon,  to  break  the  chains  of  guilt, 
and  by  its  kindly  influence  to  dissolve  the  heart  of 
the  guilty  criminal. 

9.  What  are  the  fascinations  of  the  poet,  or  ex- 
ploits of  the  warrior,  compared  with  scenes  like  these  ? 
We  find  it  good  to  be  here.  The  place  whereon  we 
stand  is  holy.  We  taste  the  joys  and  imbibe  the  spirit 
of  the  good  man  himself.  We  seem  to  rise  above  the 
selfishness  of  nature.  We  catch  a  portion  of  the  flame 
that  glows  in  his  bosom.  We  mingle  our  tears  with 
his  tears,  we  share  his  trials,  and  exultingly  exclaim, 
81  Oh  the  luxury  of  doing  good  !" 

PART    II. 

i.  Humility  was  the  most  prominent  feature  in  his 
character.  Although  the  whole  empire  felt  the  ef- 
fects of  his  beneficence,  so  industriously  were  his 
charities  concealed,  that  after  his  decease  many  were 
heard  to  ask  the  question,  "  Who  is  this  Richard 
Reynolds  ?" 

2.  It  was  not  until  the  formation  of  your  Society 
that  multitudes,  who  had  never  heard  his  name,  be- 
gan to  inquire  into  his  origin  and  connexions  ;  the 
principles  which  form  the  basis  of  his  character,  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  205 

the  school  whence  those  principles  were  derived, 
To  those  inquiries  there  is  one  short  and  comprehen- 
sive answer. 

3.  Richard  Reynolds  was  a  Christian.  Under 
the  regenerating  influence  of  Christianity  he  became 
a  new  creature  ;  upon  her  lap  he  was  nurtured,  un- 
der her  discipline  he  was  trained  :  and  the  whole  ca- 
reer of  his  benevolence  was  nothing  more  than  a 
practical  exemplification  of  the  lessons  he  inculcat- 
ed. In  her  school,  under  her  tuition,  and  by  her  fos- 
tering hand  only,  such  characters  ever  were,  or  ever 
can  be  formed. 

4.  How  odious  when  placed  with  the  names  of 
Howard,  Hanway,  Thornton,  and  Reynolds,  are  those 
of  Paine,  Voltaire,  Hume,  Bolingbroke,  and  of  the 
whole  race  of  infidels  !  Here  you  recognize  angels  of 
mercy  amidst  fiends  of  wrath  ;  saviours  amidst  the 
destroyers  of  mankind. 

5.  In  vain  will  you  search  for  men  like  them 
amongst  the  heroes,  sages,  and  patriots  of  antiquity, 
whose  names  and  virtues  are  emblazoned,  and  held 
up  to  the  admiration  of  future  ages.  It  is  a  remark- 
able fact,  that  heathenism  never  founded  an  hospital,  or 
endowed  an   almshouse, 

6.  Look  at  mighty  Athens,  and  you  will  every 
where  perceive  monuments  of  taste,  and  genius,  and 
elegance  !  Look  at  imperial  Pagan  Rome  in  all  her 
glory  !  You  will  behold  all  the  grandeur  of  the  human 
intellect  unfolded  in  her  temples,  her  palaces,  and  her 
amphitheatres.  You  will  find  no  hospital  or  infirma- 
ry ;   no  asylum  for  the  aged  and  the  infirm,  the  fath- 

S 


206  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

erlcss   and   the    widow  ;     the   blind,  the  dumb,  the 
deaf;  the  outcast  and  the  destitute. 

7.  How  vastly  superior  in  this  respect  is  Bristol 
to  Athens,  is  London  to  Rome !  These,  Christianity, 
are  thy  triumphs  !  These  are  thy  lovely  offspring  ! 
they  all  bear  the  lineaments  of  their  common  parent. 
Their  family  likeness  proves  the  sameness  of  their 
origin.  Mercy  conjoined  with  purity  is  the  darling 
attribute  of  our  holy  religion. 


CHARACTER    OF    MRS.    GRAHAM. 

From  Rev.  Dp.  Mason's  Sermon  on  her  death.     Aug.  1814. 

PART   I. 

1.  Isabella  Marshall,  known  to  us  as  Mrs.  Gra- 
ham, received,  from  nature,  qualities  which  in  cir- 
cumstances favorable  to  their  development,  do  not  al- 
low their  possessor  to  pass  through  life  unnoticed  and 
inefficient. 

2.  An  intellect  strong,  prompt,  and  inquisitive — a 
temper  open,  generous,  cheerful,  ardent — a  heart  re- 
plete with  tenderness,  and  alive  to  every  social  affec- 
tion, and  every  benevolent  impulse — a  spirit  at  once 
enterprising  and  persevering.  The  whole  crowned 
with  that  rare  and  inestimable  endowment,  good  sense, 
were  materials  which  required  only  skilful  manage- 
ment to  fit  her  for  adorning  and  dignifying  any  female 
station. 

3.  With  that  sort  of  cultivation  which  the  world 
most  admires,  and  those  opportunities  which  attend 
•ipon  rank  and  fortune,  she  might  tfave  shone  in  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  207 

circles  of  the  great,  without  forfeiting  the  esteem  of 
the  good. 

4.  Or  had  her  lot  fallen  among  the  literary  unbe- 
lievers of  the  continent,  she  might  have  figured  in  the 
sphere  of  the  Voltaires,  the  Deffands,  and  the  other 
esprits  forts  of  Paris.  She  might  have  been  as  gay  in 
public,  as  dismal  in  private,  and  as  wretched  in  her 
end,  as  any  the  most  distinguished  among  them  for 
their  wit  and  their  wo. 

5.  But  God  had  destined  her  for  other  scenes  and 
services — scenes  from  w1  ich  greatness  turns  awajr  ap- 
palled ;  and  services  which  all  the  cohorts  of  infidel 
wit  are  unable  to  perform.  She  was  to  be  prepared 
by  poverty,  bereavement  and  grief,  to  pity  and  to  suc- 
cor the  poor,  the  bereaved,  and  the  grieving. 

6.  The  sorrows  of  widowhood  were  to  teach  her 
the  heart  of  the  widow — her  babes,  deprived  of  their 
father,  to  open  the  springs  of  her  compassion  to  the 
fatherless  and  orphan — and  the  consolations  of  God, 
her  "  refuge  and  strength,  her  very  present  help  in 
trouble,"  to  make  her  a  daughter  of  consolation  to 
them,  who  were  "  walking  in  the  valley  of  the  shad- 
ow of  death." 

7.  To  train  her  betimes  for  the  future  dispensations 
of  his  providence,  the  Lord  touched  the  heart  of  this 
u  chosen  vessel"  in  her  early  youth.  The  spirit  of 
prayer  sanctified  her  infant  lips ;  and  taught  her,  as 
far  back  as  her  memory  could  go,  to  w  pour  out  her 
heart"  before  God.  She  had  not  reached  her  elev- 
enth year,  when  she  selected  a  bush  in  the  retirement 
of  the  field,  and  there  devoted  herself  to  her  God  by 
faith  in  the  Redeemer. 


208  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

8.  The  incidents  of  her  education,  thoughtless  com- 
panions, the  love  of  dress,  and  the  dancing  school,  as 
she  has  horse  If  recorded,  chilled  for  a  while  the 
warmth  of  her  piety,  and  robbed  her  bosom  of  its  peace. 
But  Ikt  gracious  Lord  revisited  her  with  his  mercy, 
and  bound  her  to  himself  in  an  everlasting  covenant, 
which  she  sealed  at  his  own  table  about  the  17th 
year  of  her  age. 

9.  Having  married,  a  few  years  after,  Dr.  John  Gra- 
ham, surgeon  to  the  60th  British  regiment,  she  ac- 
companied him  lirst  to  Montreal,  and  shortly  after  to 
Fort  Niagara.  Here,  during  four  years  of  temporal 
prosperity,  she  had  no  opportunity,  even  for  once,  of 
entering  u  the  habitation  of  God's  house,?'  or  hearing 
the  sound  of  his  gospel. 

PART    II. 

1.  By  one  of  those  vicissitudes  which  checker  mili- 
tary life,  the  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  island  of 
Antigua  in  the  West-Indies.  Here  she  met  with  that 
exquisite  enjoyment  to  which  she  had  been  long  a 
stranger — the  communion  of  kindred  spirits  in  the 
love  of  Christ :  and  soon  did  she  need  all  the  soothing 
and  support  which  it  is  fitted  to  administer.  For  in  a 
very  short  time  the  husband  of  her  youth,  the  object 
of  her  most  devoted  affection,  her  sole  earthly  stay, 
was  taken  from  her  by  death. 

2.  With  a  dignity  which  belongs  only  to  them  who 
have  a  treasure  in  heavejQ,  she  descended  to  her 
humble  cot,  employment,  and  fare.  But  her  humili- 
ty, according  to  the  Scripture,  was  the  forerunner  of 
her  advancement.     The  light  of  her  virtues  shone 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  209 

brighter  in  her  obscurity,  and  pointed  her  way  to  the 
confidential  trust  of  forming  the  minds  and  manners  of 
young  females  of  different  ranks  in  the  metropolis  of 
Scotland. 

3.  Here,  respected  by  the  great,  and  beloved  by 
the  good  ;  in  sacred  intimacy  with  "devout  and  hon- 
orable women,"  and  the  friendship  of  men  who  were 
in  truth  "  servants  of  the  most  high  God,"  she  continu- 
ed in  the  successful  discharge  of  her  duties,  till  Prov- 
idence conducted  her  to  our  shores. 

4.  She  long  had  a  predilection  for  America,  as  a 
land  in  which,  according  to  her  favorite  opinion,  the 
Church  of  Christ  is  signally  to  flourish.  *  Here  she 
wished  to  end  her  days  and  leave  her  children.  And 
we  shall  remember,  with  gratitude,  that  in  granting 
her  wish,  God  cast  her' lot  with  ourselves. 

5.  Twenty-five  years  ago  she  opened  in  this  city 
a  school  for  the  education  of  young  ladies,  the  bene- 
fits of  which  have  been  strongly  felt,  and  will  be  long 
felt  hereafter,  in  different  and  distant  parts  of  our 
country. 

6.  Evidently  devoted  to  the  welfare  of  her  pu- 
pils— attentive  to  their  peculiarities  of  character — 
happy  in  discovering  the  best  avenue  of  approach  to 
their  minds — possessing,  in  a  high  degree,  the  talent 
of  simplifying  her  instruction  and  varying  its  form, 
she  succeeded  in  that  most  difficult  part  of  a  teacher's 
work,  the  inducing  youth  to  take  an  interest  in  their 
own  improvement ;  and  to  educate  themselves  by  exerting 
their  own  faculties. 

*     7.    Admonished,  at  length,  by  the  infirmities  of  age  ; 
and  importuned  by  her  friends,  this  venerable  mat- 
S  2 


210  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ron  retired  to  private  life.  But  it  was  impossible 
for  her  to  be  idle.  Her  leisure  only  gave  a  new 
direction  to  her  activity.  With  no  less  alacrity  than 
she  had  displayed  in  the  education  of  youth,  did  she 
now  embark  in  the  relief  of  misery.  Her  benevo- 
lence was  unbounded,  but  it  was  discreet. 

PART    III. 

1.  There  are  charities  which  increase  the  wretch- 
edness they  are  designed  to  diminish :  which,  from 
some  fatal  defect  in  their  application,  bribe  to  iniqui-  / 
ty  while  they  are  relieving  want ;  and  make  food, 
and  raiment,  and  clothing,  to  warm  into  life  the  most 
poisonous  seeds  of  vice. 

2.  But  the  charities  of  our  departed  friend  were  of 
another  order.  They  selected  the  fittest  objects — 
the  widow — the  fatherless — the  orphan — the  un- 
taught child — and  the  ignorant  adult.  They  com- 
bined intellectual  and  moral  benefit  with  the  commu- 
nication of  physical  comfort.  In  her  house  origina- 
ted the  Society  for  the  relief  of  poor  Widows  with 
small  Children.  Large,  indeed,  is  this  branch  of  the 
family  of  affliction ;  and  largely  did  it  share  in  her 
sympathy  and  succor. 

3.  When  at  the  head  of  the  noble  association  just 
named,  she  made  it  her  business  to  see  with  her  own 
eyes  the  objects  of  their  care ;  and  to  give,  by  her 
personal  presence  and  efforts,  the  strongest  impulse 
to  their  humane  system. 

4.  From  morning  till  night  has  she  gone  from 
abode  to  abode  of  these  destitute,  who  are  too  com- 
monly unpitied  by  the  great,  despised  by  the  proud, 
and  forgotten  by  the  gay.     She  has  gone  to  ait  beside 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  211 

them  on  their  humble  seat,  hearing  their  simple 
and  sorrowful  story — sharing  their  homely  meal — 
ascertaining  the  condition  of  their  children — stirring 
them  up  to  diligence,  to  economy,  to  neatness,  to 
order — putting  them  into  the  way  of  obtaining  suit- 
able employment  for  themselves  and  suitable  pla- 
ces for  their  children — distributing  among  them  the 
word  of  God,  and  little  tracts  calculated  to  familiar- 
ize its  first  principles  to  their  understanding — cher- 
ishing them  in  sickness — admonishing  them  in  health — • 
instructing,  reproving,  exhorting,  consoling — sancti- 
fying the  wUole  with  fervent  prayer.  Many  a  sob- 
bing heart  and  streaming  eye  is  this  evening  embalm- 
ing  her  memory  in  the  house  of  the  widow. 

5.  Little,  if  any,  less  is  the  debt  due  to  her  from 
that  invaluable  charity,  the  Orphan  Asylum.  It  speaks 
its  own  praise,  and  that  praise  is  hers.  Scores  of  or- 
phans redeemed  from  tilth,  from  ignorance,  from 
wretchedness,  from  crime — clothed,  fed,  instructed — 
trained,  in  cleanliness,  to  habits  of  industty — early  im- 
bued with  the  knowledge  and  fear  of  God — gradually 
preparing  for  respectability,  usefulness  and  happi- 
nes\^— is  a  spectacle  for  angels.  Their  infantine  gai- 
ety, their  healthful  sport,  their  cherub-faces,  mark 
the  contrast  between  their  present  and  former  condi- 
tion ;  and  recal,  very  tenderly,  the  scenes  in  which 
they  used  to  cluster  round  their  patron-mother,  hang 
on  her  gracious  words,  and  receive  her  benediction. 

6.  Brethren,  I  am  not  dealing  in  romance,  but  in 
sober  fact.  The  night  would  be  too  short  for  a  full 
enumeration  of  her  worthy  deeds.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
that  they  ended  but  with  her  life.     The  sabbath  pre- 


212  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

vious  to  her  last  sickness  occupied  her  with  a  recent 
institution — A  Sunday  School  for  Ignorant  Adults ; 
and  the  evening  preceding  the  touch  of  death,  found 
her  at  the  side  of  a  faithful  domestic,  administering 
consolation  to  his  wounded  spirit. 

PART    IV. 

1.  RECALthe  example  of  Mrs.  Graham.  Here  was 
a  woman — a  widow — a  stranger  in  a  strange  land — 
without  fortune — with  no  friends  but  such  as  her  let- 
ters of  introduction  and  her  worth  should  acquire — 
and  with  a  family  of  daughters  dependent  upon  her  for 
their  subsistence.  Surely  if  any  one  has  a  clear  title 
of  immunity  from  the  obligation  to  carry  her  cares  be- 
yond the  domestic  circle,  it  is  this  widow ;  it  is  this 
stranger. 

2.  Yet  within  a  few  years  this  stranger,  this  widow, 
wTith  no  means  but  her  excellent  sense,  her  benevolent 
heart,  and  her  persevering  will  to  do  good,  awakens  the 
charities  of  a  populous  city,  and  gives  to  them  an  im- 
pulse, a  direction,  and  an  efficacy,  unknown  before  ! 

3.  What  might  not  be  done  by  men  ;  by  men  of 
talent,  of  standing,  of  wealth,  of  leisure?  How  speed- 
ily, under  their  well  directed  beneficence,  might  a 
whole  country  change  its  physical,  intellectual,  and 
moral  aspect;  and  assume,  comparatively  speaking, 
the  face  of  another  Eden — a  second  garden  of  God  ? 

4.  Why  then  do  they  not  diffuse,  thus  extensively, 
the  seeds  of  knowledge,  of  virtue,  and  of  bliss?  I  ask 
not  for  their  pretences j  they  are  as  old  as  the  lust  of 
lucre  ;  and  are  refuted  by  the  example  which  we  have 
been  contemplating — I  ask  for  the  true  reason,  for  the 
inspiring  principle,  of  their  conduct.     It  is  this — let 


THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR.  213 

them  look  to  it  when  God  shall  call  them  to  account 
for  the  abuse  of  their  time,  their  talents,  their  station, 
their  "  unrighteous  mammon." — It  is  this  :  They  be- 
lieve not  "  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said, 
It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive"  They  labor 
under  no  want  but  one — they  want  the  heart  I 

5.  I  turn  to  the  other  sex.  That  venerable  moth- 
er in  Israel,  who  has  exchanged  the  service  of  God  on 
earth  for  his  service  in  heaven,  has  left  a  legacy  to  her 
sisters — she  has  left  the  example  of  her  faith  and  pa- 
tience; she  has  left  her  prayers;  she  has  left  the  mon- 
ument of  her  Christian  deeds  :  and  by  these  she  "  be- 
ing dead  yet  speaketh." 

6.  Matrons  !  has  she  left  her  mantle  also  ?  Are  there 
none  among  you  to  hear  her  voice  from  the  tomb  ? 
"Go,  and  do  thou  likewise?"  None  whom  affluence 
permits,  endowments  qualify,  and  piety  prompts,  to 
aim  at  her  distinction,  by  treading  in  her  steps? 

7.  Maidens  !  Are  there  n®ne  among  you,  who  wTould 
wish  tn  array  yourselves  hereafter  in  the  honors  of  this 
"  virtuous  woman  V9  Your  hearts  have  dismissed  their 
wonted  warmth  and  generosity,  if  they  do  not  throb  as 
the  revered  vision  rises  before  you — Then  prepare 
yourselves  now  by  seeking  and  servmg  the  God  of  her 
youth. 

8.  You  cannot  be  too  early  "  adorned  with  the  robes 
of  righteousness  and  the  garments  of  salvation"  in 
which  she  was  wedded,  in  her  morning  of  life,  to  Jesus 
the  King  of  Glory.  That  same  grace  which  threw  its 
radiance  around  her  shall  make  you  also  to  shine  in  the 
"beauty  of  holiness;"  and  the  fragrance  of  those  virtues 
which  it  shall  create,  develop,  and  ennoble,  will  be 
c;  as  the  smell  of  a  field  which  the  Lord  hath  blessed." 


214  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Narrative  &  Biographical  Pieces* 

ABDALLAH    AND    SABAT. 

From  Dr.  Buchanan's  Sermon,  "  The  Star  in  the  East." 

1.  Abdallah  and  Sabat  were  intimate  friends,  and 
being  young  men  of  family  in  Arabia,  tbey  agreed  to 
travel  together,  and  to  visit  foreign  countries.  Tbey 
were  both  zealous  Mahometans.  Sabat  was  son  of 
Ibrahim  Sabat,  a  noble  family  of  the  line  of  Beni-Sabat, 
who  trace  their  pedigree  to  Mahomet.  The  two 
friends  left  Arabia,  after  paying  their  adorations  at  the 
tomb  of  their  prophet  at  Mecca,  and  travelled  through 
Persia,  and  thence  to  Cabul.  Abdallah  was  appointed 
to  an  office  of  state  under  Zemaun  Shah,  king  of  Ca- 
bul ;  and  Sabat  left  him  there,  and  proceeded  on  a 
tour  through  Tartary. 

2-  While  Abdallah  remained  at  Cabul,  he  was  con- 
verted to  the  Christian  faith  by  the  perusal  of  a  Bible 
(as  is  supposed)  belonging  to  a  Christian  from  Armenia, 
then  residing  at  Cabul.  In  the  Mahometan  states,  it 
is  death  for  a  man  of  rank  to  become  a  Christian. — 
Abdallah  endeavored  for  a  time  to  conceal  his  conver- 
sion, but  finding  it  no  longer  possible,  he  determined 
to  flee  to  some  of  the  Christian  churches  near  the 
Caspian  sea.  He  accordingly  left  Cabul  in  disguise, 
and  had  gained  the  great  city  of  Eochara,  in  Tar- 
tary, when  he  was  met  in  the  streets  of  that  city  by 
his  friend  Sabat,  who  immediately  recognized  him. 

3.  Sabat  had  heard  of  his  conversion  and  flight,  and 
was  filled  with  indignation  at  his  conduct.     Abdallah 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  215 

knew  his  danger,  and  threw  himself  at  the  feet  of  Sa- 
hat.  He  confessed  that  he  was  a  Christian,  and  im- 
plored him,  by  the  sacred  tie  of  their  former  friend- 
ship, to  let  him  escape  with  his  life.  "But,  sir," said 
Sabat,  when  relating  the  story  himself,  "  I  had  no  pity. 
I  caused  my  servants  to  seize  him,  and  I  delivered  him 
up  to  Morad  Shah,  king  of  Bochara. 

4.  He  was  sentenced  to  die,  and  a  herald  went 
through  the  city  of  Bochara,  announcing  the  time  of 
his  execution.  An  immense  multitude  attended,  and 
the  chief  men  of  the  city.  I  also  went  and  stood  near 
to  Abdallah.  He  was  offered  his  life  if  he  would  ab- 
jure Christ,  the  executioner  standing  by  him  with  his 
sword  in  his  hand.  *  No,'  said  he,  (as  if  the  proposi- 
tion were  impossible  to  be  compiled  with)  I  cannot 
abjure  Christ.'  Then  one  of  his  hands  was  cut  off  at 
the  wrist.  He  stood  firm,  his  arm  hanging  by  his  qgde 
with  but  little  motion. 

5,  A  physician,  by  desire  of  the  king,  offered  to  heal 
the  wound,  if  he  would  recant.  He  made  no  answer, 
but  looked  up  steadfastly  towards  heaven,  like  Steph- 
en the  first  martyr,  his  eye  streaming  with  tears. 
He  did  not  look  with  anger  towards  me.  He  looked 
at  me,  but  it  was  benignly,  and  with  the  countenance 
of  forgiveness.  His  other  hand  was  then  cut  off. 
But,  sir,"  said  Sabat,  in  his  imperfect  English,  "he  nev- 
er changed,  he  never  changed.  And  when  he  bowed 
his  head  to  receive  the  blow  of  death,  all  Bochara 
seemed  to  say,  « What  new  thing  is  this  ?'  ° 


216  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

FATAL    PRESUMPTION. 

An  account  of  two  English  lords  who  were  swallowed  up 

in  the  falls  of  the  Rhine. 
From  the  Journal  of  a  traveller  through  Switzerland  in  1794. 

1.  When  the  following  day  I  passed  through  Lauf- 
fenburg,  I  left  my  carriage  and  walked  over  the 
bridge  in  company  with  a  man  of  the  place,  who, 
seeing  me  look  with  great  attention  at  the  Rhine 
foaming  through  the  arches  over  a  bed  of  rocks,  said 
to  me,  pointing  with  his  hand  to  a  sharp  angle — 
u  There  the  two  English  lords  were  swallowed  up." 
This  was,  in  fact,  the  place  where,  a  few  months 
ago,  Lord  M and  Mr.  B made  so  deplora- 
ble an  end. 

2.  When  one  sees  the  rapid  and  deep  course  of 
the  Rhine  at  this  place,  dashing  its  water  through  a 
narrow  bed  of  rocks,  presenting  for  three  hundred 
yards  acute  and  sharp  winding  angles,  it  is  not  easy 
to  believe  that  so  desperate  an  attempt  would  have 
been  hazarded  as  that  which  cost  those  unfortunate 
young  men  their  lives.  They  were  travellers  ;  the 
beauty  of  the  country  tempted  them  to  stop  for  a 
few  days  at  Lauffenburg.  The  novelty  and  danger 
of  this  unattempted  navigation  excited  in  them  the 
wish  to  do  what  other  people  deemed  impossible. 

3.  The  moment  their  idea  was  known,  it  was 
strongly  opposed;  and  the  opposition  only  served  to 
confirm  them  in  their  purpose.  They  proceeded, 
however  with  some  caution.  They  first  pushed  an 
empty  boat  into  the  stream,  and  unfortunately  for 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  217 

them,  and  incredible  as  it  appeared  to  the  specta- 
tors, who  had  crowded  both  sides  of  the  Rhine  to 
see  this  experiment,  the  boat  went  through  undam- 
aged. This  success,  achieved  in  the  presence  of 
five  hundred  people,  was  a  spur  to  the  foolish  pride 
of  the  two  voung  Englishmen,  who  thought  that  they 
could  not  now  relinquish  their  scheme  without  being 
laughed  at.  A  second  boat  was  prepared,  and  the 
next  morning  appointed  for  the  experiment. 

4.  Deputations  were  sent  to  them  from  the  mag- 
istrates, who  strongly  remonstrated  against  the  guil- 
ty madness  of  the  enterprise,  but  without  effect. 
Next  came  some  of  the  clergy  to  warn  them  against 
perdition,  and  to  prophecy  certain  death :  their  ef- 
forts were  equally  unsuccessful;  and  on  the  ap- 
pointed morning  they  sallied  forth,  both  dressed  in 
white  waistcoats  without  coats,  and  slippers.  They 
gave  their  money  and  watches  to  their  servants  : 
they  knew,  therefore,  that  there  was  a  great  chance 
of  death. 

5.  Mr.  B —  went  to  the  boat  with  a  heavy  heart, 
and  even  said  he  would  not  go,  and  remonstrated  with 
Lord  M — :  but  his  lordship  jumped  into  the  boat, 
and  said  he  would  go  alone  ;  upon  which  poor  Mr. 
B — ,  unwilling  to  leave  his  friend,  went  in  after  him. 
They  pushed  off.  They  had  each  a  long  pole,  with 
which  they  hoped  to  keep  the  boat  clear  of  the  rocks. 
On  both  shores  stood  an  overawed  multitude,  some 
crying,  all  vociferating  entreaties  to  desist,  and  not  to 
rush  into  eternity. 

6.  It  was  now  too  late  :  no  human  strength  could 
have  stopped  the  boat  when  once  it  had  got  into  the 

T 


218  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATO'R, 

rapid  current.  To  the  amazement  of  the  trembling 
spectators,  they  went  unhurt  over  the  first  breakers, 
and,  rushing  into  the  foaming  torrent,  evaded  the  first 
threatening  angle.  Life  was  then  for  a  few  seconds 
once  more  in  their  power.  They  might  have  jumped 
on  the  rocks,  from  which  they  were  not  more  than 
three  or  four  feet  distant.  The  people  on  the  shore 
screamed  out  to  them  to  do  it;  instead  of  which, 
elated  with  this  momentary  success,  they  huzzaed, 
and  waved  their  hats. 

7.  Alas  !  blind  unfortunate  youths  !  that  salute  was 
a  last  farewell  to  this  world  :  they  were  just  plunging 
into  eternity.  With  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow  they 
were  carried  to  a  tremendous  vortex:  their  boat 
was  instantly  overset :  they  struggled  for  a  short 
time  against  the  roaring  billowTs,  swam  even  the 
space  of  two  hundred  yards  on  their  backs,  calling 
out  for  help  and  mercy.  No  help  could  be  given. 
The  distressed  multitude  gazed  on  them  as  they 
passed,  and  saw  them  swallowred  up — never  to  ap- 
pear again. 

8.  I  did  net  hear  this  affecting  narrative  with  a 
dry  eye.  The  man  who  gave  me  the  particulars  of 
it  had  been  himself  a  witness  of  the  whole,  and  was 
much  agitated  on  recounting  it.  He  told  me  that 
not  so  much  as  a  button  of  their  waistcoat  had  been 
seen  afterwards;  and  that  two  English  gentlemen, 
who  had  come  on  purpose  from  England,  had  staid 
at  Laufflenburg  some  weeks,  endeavoring  by  every 
possible  contrivance  to  find  the  remains ;  but  they 
hid  no  success. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  219 

SKENANDOH,    THE    ONEIDA    CHIEF, 

From  a  New  York  paper. 

1.  Skenandoh,  the  celebrated  Oneida  Chief,  was 
well  known  in  the  wars  which  occurred  while  we 
were  British  colonies,  and  in  the  contest  which  issu- 
ed in  our  independence,  as  the  undeviating  friend  of 
the  people  of  the  United  States.  He  was  very  sav- 
age, and  addicted  to  drunkenness  in  his  yoiath  ;  but 
he  lived  a  reformed  man  for  more  than  sixty  years, 
and  died  in  Christian  hope. 

2.  Skenandoh's  person  was  tall  and  brawny,  but 
well  made — his  countenance  was  intelligent,  and 
beamed  with  all  the  indigenous  dignity  of  an  Indian 
Chief.  In  his  youth  he  was  a  brave  and  intrepid 
warrior,  and  in  his  riper  years  one  of  the  ablest 
counsellors  among  the  North  American  tribes.  He 
possessed  a  strong  and  vigorous  mind ;  and  though 
terrible  as  the  tornado  in  war,  he  was  bland  and  mild 
as  the  zephyr  in  peace. 

3.  With  the  cunning  of  the  fox,  the  hungry  perse- 
verance of  the  wolf,  and  the  agility  of  the  mountain 
cat,  he  watched  and  repelled  Canadian  invasion's. 
His  vigilance  once  preserved  from  massacre  the  in- 
habitants of  the  infant  settlement  of  German-flats, 
His  influence  brought  his  tribe  to  our  assistance  in 
the  war  of  the  Revolution.  How  many  have  been 
saved  from  the  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife,  by  his 
friendly  aid,  is  not  known  ;  but  individuals  and  villa- 
ges have  expressed  gratitude  for  his  benevolent  in- 
terpositions ;   and  among  the  Indian  tribes  he  was  dis- 


220  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

tingnished  by  the   appellation  of  the  u  White  Man's 
Friend" 

4.  Although  he  could  speak  but  little  English,  and 
in  his  extreme  old  age  was  blind,  yet  his  company 
was  sought.  In  conversation  he  was  highly  decorous, 
evincing  that  he  had  profited  by  seeing  civilized  and 
polished  society,  and  by  mingling  with  good  company 
in  his  better  days. 

5.  To  a  friend,  who  called  on  him  a  short  time 
since,  he  thus  expressed  himself  by  an  interpreter  : 
i(  I  am  an  aged  hemlock.  The  winds  of  an  hundred 
winters  have  whistled  through  my  branches  :  I  am 
dead  at  the  top.  The  generation  to  which  I  belong- 
ed has  run  away  and  left  me.  Why  I  live,  the  great 
Good  Spirit  only  knows.  Pray  to  my  Jesus  that  I 
may  have  patience  to  wait  for  my  appointed  time  to 
die." 

6.  Honored  Chief !  His  prayer  was  answered — 
he  was  cheerful  and  resigned  to  the  last.  For  sever- 
al years  he  kept  his  dress  for  the  grave  prepared. 
Once,  and  again,  and  again,  he  came  to  Clinton  to 
die  ;  longing  that  his  soul  might  be  with  Christ,  and 
his  body  in  the  narrow  house,  near  his  beloved  Chris- 
tian teacher. 

7.  While  the  ambitious,  but  vulgar  great,  look  prin- 
cipally to  sculptured  monuments,  and  to  niches  in  the 
temple  of  earthly  fame,  Skenandoh,  in  the  spirit  of 
the  only  real  nobility,  stood  with  his  loins  girded* 
waiting  the  coming  of  his  Lord. 

8.  His  Lord  has  come  !  And  the  day  approaches 
when  the  green  hillock  that  covers  his  dust  will  be 
-nore  respected  than  the  Pyramids,  the  Mausolea,  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  221 

the  Pantheons  of  the  proud  and  imperious.  His  sim- 
ple "turf  and  stone"  will  be  viewed  with  affection 
and  veneration,  when  the  tawdry  ornaments  of  human 
apotheosis  shall  awaken  only  pity  and  disgust. 


ALTAMONT. 

The  following  account  of  an  affecting,  mournful  exit, 
is  related  by  Dr.  Young,  who  was  present  at  the  mel- 
ancholy scene. 

1.  The  sad  evening  before  the  death  of  that  noble 
youth,  whose  last  hours  suggested  these  thoughts,  I 
was  with  him.  No  one  was  there,  but  his  physician, 
and  an  intimate  whom  he  loved,  and  whom  he  had 
ruined.  At  my  coming  in,  he  said, — u  You  and  the 
physician  are  come  too  late. — I  have  neither  life  nor 
hope.  You  both  aim  at  miracles.  You  would  raise 
the  dead  f ' 

2.  Heaven,  I  said,  was  merciful — "  Or,"  exclaimed 
he, — "  I  could  not  have  been  thus  guilty.  What  has 
it  not  done  to  bless,  and  to  save  me  ? — I  have  been 
too  strong  for  Omnipotence  !  I  have  plucked  down 

ruin." 1  said,    the   blessed  Redeemer, — "Hold I 

hold !  you  wound  me  ! — That  is  the  rock  on  which  I 
split — 1  denied  his  name  !" 

3.  Refusing  to  hear  any  thing  from  me,  or  take  aay 
thing  from  the  physician,  he  lay  silent,  as  far  as  sud- 
den darts  of  pain  would  permit,  till  the  clock  struck  : 
Then  with  vehemence  ; — uOh  !  time!  time  !  it  is 
fit  thou  shouldst  thus  strike  thy  murderer  to  the 
heart  ! — How  art  thou  fled  for  ever  !— A  month  I 

T  2 


222  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Oh,  for  a  single  week  !  I  ask  not  for  years  ;   though 
an  age  were  too  little  for  the  much  I  have  to  do." 

4.  On  my  saying,  we  could  not  do  much  :  that 
heaven  was  a  blessed  place 

u  So  much  the  worse. — 'Tis  lost!  'tis  lost  ! — Heav- 
en is  to  me  the  severest  part  of  hell  P* 

Soon  after  I  proposed  prayer.  u  Pray  you  that 
can.  I  never  prayed.  I  cannot  pray  : — Nor  need  I. 
Is  not  heaven  on  my  side  already  ?  It  closes  with  my 
conscience.     Its  severest  strokes  but  second  my  own." 

5.  His  friend  being  much  touched,  even  to  tears,  at 
this — (who  could  forbear  ?  I  could  not) — with  a  most 
affectionate  look,  he  said,  "  Keep  those  tears  for  thy- 
self. I  have  undone  thee. — Dost  weep  for  me  ? 
that's  cruel.     What  can  pain  me  more  ?" 

6.  Here  his  friend,  too  much  affected,  would  have 

left  him. M  No,   stay — thou  still  mayst  hope  ; — 

therefore  hear  me.  How  madly. have  I  talk'd  !  How 
madly  hast  thou  listened,  and  believed  !  but  look  on 
xny  present  state,  as  a  full  answer  to  thee,  and  to 
myself.  This  body  is  all  weakness  and  pain  ;  but  my 
soul,  as  if  stung  up  by  torment  to  greater  strength 
and  spirit,  is  full  powerful  to  reason  ;  full  mighty  to 
suffer.  And  that,  which  thus  triumphs  within  the 
jaws  of  immortality,  is,  doubtless,  immortal — And  as 
for  a  Deity,  nothing  less  than  an  Almighty  could  in- 
flict what  I  feel." 

7.  I  was  about  to  congratulate  this  passive,  invol- 
untary confessor,  on  his  asserting  the  two  prime  arti- 
cles of  his  creed,  extorted  by  the  rack  of  nature,  when 
he  thus  very  passionately  : — "  No,  no  !  let  me  speak 
on.     I  have  not  long  to  speak.— My  much  injured 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  223 

friend  !  my  sou!,  as  my  body,  lies  in  ruins  ;  in  scat- 
tered fragments  of  broken  thought Remorse  for 

the  past,  throws  my  thought  on  the  future.  Worse 
dread  of  the  future,  strikes  it  back  on  the  past.  I 
turn,  and  turn,  and  find  no  ray.  Didst  thou  feel  half 
the  mountain  that  is  on  me,  thou  wouldst  struggle 
with  the  martyr  for  his  stake  ;  and  bless  Heaven  for 
the  flames  ! — that  is  not  an  everlasting  flame  ;  that  is 
not  an  unquenchable  fire." 

8.  How  were  we  struck  !  yet,  soon  after,  still 
more.  With  what  an  eye  of  distraction,  what  a  face 
of  despair  !  he  cried  out : — "  My  principles  have  poi- 
soned my  friend  ;  my  extravagance  has  beggared  my 
boy  !  my  unkiadness  has  murdered  my  wife  I— And  is 
there  another  hell  ? — Oh  !  thou  blasphemed,  yet  in- 
dulgent LORD  GOD  !  Hell  itself  is  a  refuge,  if  it 
hide  me  from  thy  frown  !" 

9.  Soon  after,  his  understanding  failed.  His  terri- 
fied imagination  uttered  horrors  not  to  be  repeated, 
or  ever  forgotten.  And  ere  the  sun  (which,  1  hope, 
has  seen  few  like  him)  arose,  the  gay,  young,  noble, 
ingenuous,  accomplished,  and  most  wretched  Altamont 
expired  f 

10.  If  this  is  a  man  of  pleasure,  what  is  a  man  of 
pain  ?  How  quick,  how  total,  is  their  transit !  In  what 
a  dismal  gloom  they  set  for  ever  !  How  short,  alas  ! 
the  day  of  their  rejoicing  ! — For  a  moment  they  glit- 
ter— they  dazzle.  In  a  moment,  where  are  they  ? 
Oblivion  covers  their  memories.  Ah  !  would  it  did  ! 
Infamy  snatches  them  from  oblivion.  In  the  long- 
living  annals  of  infamy  their  triumphs  are  recorded, 
Thy  sufferings  still  bleed  in  the  bosom,  poor  Alta- 


224  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

mont  !     of  the   heart-stricken   friend — for   Altamont 
had  a  friend.     He  wight  have  had  many. 

11.  His  transient  morning  might  have  heen  the 
dawn  of  an  immortal  day.  His  name  might  have  been 
gloriously  enrolled  in  the  records  of  eternity.  His 
memory  might  have  left  a  sweet  fragrance  behind  it, 
grateful  to  the  surviving  friend,  salutary  to  the  suc- 
ceeding generation.  With  what  capacities  was  he 
endowed  !  with  what  advantages,  for  being  greatly 
flood  !  But  with  the  talents  of  an  angel,  a  man  may 
be  a  fool.  If  he  judges  amiss  in  the  supreme  point, 
judging  right  in  all  else,  but  aggravates  his  folly  ;  as 
it  shows  him  wrong,  though  blessed  with  the  best  ca- 
pacity of  being  right. 


CHARLES  V.  EMPEROR  OF  GERMANY. 

1.  Charles  V.  emperor  of  Germany,  king  of  Spain, 
and  lord  of  the  Netherlands,  was  born  at  Ghent,  in 
the  year  1500. 

He  is  said  to  have  fought  sixty  battles,  in  most  of 
which  he  was  victorious  ;  to  have  obtained  six  tri- 
umphs, conquered  four  kingdoms,  and  to  have  add- 
ed eight  principalities  to  his  dominions  :  an  almost 
unparalleled  instance  of  worldly  prosperity,  and  the 
greatness  of  human  glory. 

2.  But  all  these  fruits  of  his  ambition,  and  all  the 
honors  that  attended  him,  could  not  yield  true  and 
solid  satisfaction.  Reflecting  on  the  evils  and  mis- 
eries which  he  had  occasioned,  and  convinced  of  the 
emptiness  of  earthly  magnificence,  he  became  dis- 
gusted with  all  the  splendor  that  surrounded  him  ; 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR*  225 

and  thought  it  his  duty  to  withdraw  from  it,  and  spend 
;he  rest  of  his  days  in  religious  retirement. 

3.  Accordingly,  he  voluntarily  resigned  all  his  do- 
minions to  his  brother  and  son  ;  and  after  taking  an 
affectionate  and  last  farewell  of  his  son,  and  a  numer- 
ous retinue  of  princes  and  nobility  that  respectfully 
attended  him,  he  repaired  to  his  chosen  retreat.  It 
was  situated  in  Spain,  in  a  rale  of  no  great  extent, 
watered  by  a  small  brook,  and  surrounded  with  ris- 
ing grounds  covered  with  lofty  trees. 

4.  A  deep  sense  of  his  frail  condition  and  great 
imperfections,  appears  to  have  impressed  his  mind 
in  this  extraordinary  resolution,  and  through  the  re- 
mainder of  h^life.  As  soon  as  he  landed  in  Spain, 
he  fell  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  considering  him- 
self now  as  dead  to  the  world,  he  kissed  the  earth, 
and  said ;  "  Naked  came  1  out  of  my  mother's  womb, 
and  naked  I  now  return  to  thee,  thou  common  moth- 
er of  mankind  ?" 

5.  In  this  humble  retreat  he  spent  his  time  in 
religious  exercises  and  innocent  employments  ;  and 
buried  here  in  solitude  and  silence,  his  grandeur, 
his  ambition,  together  with  all  those  vast  projects, 
which  for  near  half  a  century,  had  alarmed  and  agi- 
tated Europe,  and  filled  every  kingdom  in  it,  by 
turns,  with  the  terror  of  his  arms,  and  the  dread  of 
being  subjected  to  his  power. 

6.  Far  from  taking  any  part  in  the  political  trans- 
actions of  the  world,  he  restrained  his  curiosity 
even  from  any  inquiry  concerning  them;  and  seem- 
ed to  view  the  busy  scene  he  had  abandoned,  with 
an  elevation  and  indifference  of  mind,  which  arose 


226  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

from  his  thorough  experience  of  its  vanity,  as  well 
as  from  the  pleasing  reflection  of  having  disengaged 
himself  from  its  cares  and  temptations. 

7.  Here  he  enjoyed  more  complete  contentment, 
than  all  his  grandeur  had  ever  yielded  him  ;  as  a  full 
proof  of  which  he  has  left  this  short,  but  comprehen- 
sive testimony:  UI  have  tasted  more  satisfaction  in 
my  solitude,  in  one  day,  than  in  all  the  triumphs  of 
my  former  reign.  The  sincere  study,  profession, 
and  practice  of  the  Christian  religion,  have  in  them 
such  joys  and  sweetness,  as  are  seldom  found  in  courts 
and  grandeur." 


# 

BOERHAAVE. 

1.  Herman  Boerhaave,  one  of  the  greatest  phy- 
sicians, and  best  of  men,  was  born  in  Holland,  in 
the  year  1668.  This  illustrious  person,  whose  name 
has  spread  throughout  the  world,  and  who  left  at 
his  death  above  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  ster- 
ling, was,  at  his  first  setting  out  in  life,  obliged  to 
teach  the  mathematics  to  obtain  a  necessary  support. 
His  abilities,  industry,  and  great  merit,  soon  gained 
him  friends,  placed  him  in  easy  circumstances,  and 
enabled  him  to  be  bountiful  to  others. 

-2.  The  knowledge  and  learning  of  this  great  man, 
however  uncommon,  hold,  in  his  character,  but  the 
second  place ;  his  virtue  was  yet  much  more  uncom- 
mon than  his  literary  attainments.  He  was  an  admi- 
rable example  of  temperance,  fortitude,  humility, 
and  devotion.       Hi9  piety,   and  a  religious  sense   of 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  227 

his  dependence   on  God,  formed  the  basis  of  all  his 
virtues,  and  the  principle  of  his  whole  conduct. 

3.  He  was  too  sensible  of  his  weakness  to  ascribe 
any  thing  to  himself,  or  to  conceive  that  he  could 
subdue  passion,  or  withstand  temptation,  by  his  own 
natural  power;  he  attributed  every  good  thought, 
and  every  laudable  action  to  the  Father  of  Goodness. 

4.  Being  once  asked  by  a  friend,  who  hard  often 
admired  his  patience,  under  great  provocations, 
whether  he  had  ever  been  under  the  influence  of 
anger,  and  by  what  means  he  had  so  entirely  sup- 
pressed that  impetuous  and  ungovernable  passion  ? 
he  answered,  with  the  utmost  frankness  and  sincer- 
ity, that  he  was  naturally  quick  of  resentment,  but 
that  he  had,  by  daily  prayer  and  meditation,  at  length 
attained  to  this  mastery  over  himself. 

5.  As  soon  as  he  rose  in  the  morning,  it  was, 
through  life,  his  daily  practice  to  retire  for  an  hour 
to  private  prayer  and  meditation  :  this,  he  often  told 
his  friends,  gave  him  spirit  and  vigor  in  the  business 
of  the  day,  and  this  he  therefore  recommended  as 
the  best  rule  of  life  ;  for  nothing,  he  knew,  can 
support  the  soul  in  all  its  distresses,  but  confidence 
in  the  Supreme  Being;  nor  can  a  steady  and  rational 
magnanimity  flow  from  any  other  source  than  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  Divine  Favor. 

6.  He  asserted  on  all  occasions  the  Divine  Author- 
ity of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  excellency  of  the 
Christian  religion  was  the  frequent  subject  of  his 
conversation,  A  strict  obedience  to  the  doctrine, 
and  a  diligent  imitation  of  the  example,  of  our  blessed 
Saviour,  he  often  declared  to  be  the  foundation  of 


228  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

true  tranquillity.  He  was  liberal  to  the  distressed 
but  without  ostentation.  He  often  obliged  his  friends 
in  such  a  manner,  that  they  knew  not,  unless  by 
accident,  to  whom  they  were  indebted. 

7.  He  was  condescending  to  all,  and  particularly 
attentive  in  his  profession.  He  used  to  say  that  the 
life  of  a  patient,  if  trifled  with  or  neglected,  would 
ene  day  be  required  at  the  hand  of  the  physician. 
He  called  the  poor  his  best  patients:  for  God,  said 
he,  is  their  paymaster.  In  conversation  he  was 
cheerful  and  instructive  ;  and  desirous  of  promoting 
every  valuable  end  of  social  intercourse. 

8.  He  never  regarded  calumny  and  detraction ; 
(for  Boerhaave  himself  had  enemies;)  nor  ever 
thought  it  necessary  to  confute  them.  u  They  are 
sparks,"  said  he,  M  which,  if  you  do  not  blow  them, 
will  go  out  of  themselves.  The  surest  remedy 
against  scandal,  is,  to  live  it  down  by  perseverance 
in  well  doing ;  and  by  praying  to  God,  that  he  would 
cure  the  distempered  minds  of  those  who  traduce 
and  injure  us." 

9.  About  the  middle  of  the  year  1737,  he  felt  the 
first  approaches  of  that  fatal  disorder  which  brought 
him  to  the  grave.  During  his  afflictive  and  linger- 
ing illness,  his  constancy  and  firmness  did  not  forsake 
him.  He  neither  intermitted  the  necessary  cares  of 
life,  nor  forgot  the  proper  preparations  for  death. 

10.  He  related  to  a  friend,  with  great  concern, 
that  once  his  patience  so  far  gave  way  to  extremity 
of  pain,  that,  after  having  lain  fifteen  hours  in  ex- 
quisite tortures,  he  prayed  to  God  that  he  might 
be  set  free  by  death.      His  friend,  by  way  of  conso- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  229 

lation,  answered,  that  he  thought  such  wishes  when 
forced  by  continued  and  excessive  torments,  una- 
voidable in  the  present  state  of  human  nature  ;  that 
the  best  men,  even  Job  himself,  were  not  able  to 
refrain  from  such  starts  of  impatience.  This  he 
did  not  deny,  but  said,  "  He  that  loves  God  ought 
to  think  nothing  desirable,  but  what  is  most  pleasing 
to  the  Supreme  Goodness." 

1 1.  Such  were  his  sentiments,  and  such  his  conduct, 
in  this  state  of  weakness  and  pain.  As  death  ap- 
proached nearer,  he  was  so  far  from  terror  or  confu- 
sion, that  he  seemed  even  less  sensible  of  pain,  and 
more  cheerful  under  his  torments.  He  died,  much 
honored  and  lamented,  in  the  70th  year  of  his  age. 


CHARACTER    OF    GENERAL   HAMILTON. 

By  Rev.  Dr.  Nott. 

1.  The  Man,  on  whom  nature  seems  originally  to 
have  impressed  the  stamp  of  greatness.  Whose  ge- 
nius beamed  from  the  retirement  of  collegiate  life* 
with  a  radiance  which  dazzled,  and  a  loveliness 
which  charmed,  the  eye  of  sages, 

2.  The  Hero,  called  from  his  sequestered  retreat^ 
whose  first  appearance  in  the  field,  though  a  strip- 
ling, conciliated  the  esteem  of  Washington,  our  good 
old  father.  Moving  by  whose  side,  during  all  the 
perils  of  the  revolution,  our  young  chieftain  was  a 
contributor  to  the  veteran's  glory,  the  guardian  of 
his  person,  and  the  compartner  of  his  toils, 

U 


230  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

3.  The  Conqueror,  ivho,  sparing  of  human  blood, 
when  victory  favored,  stayed  the  uplifted  am,  and 
nobly  said  to  the  vanquished  enemy,  "liveP — 

4.  The  Statesman,  the  correctness  of  whose  prin- 
ciples, and  the  strength  of  whose  mind,  are  inscribed 
on  the  records  of  congress  and  on  the  annals  of  the 
council  chamber.  Whose  genius  impressed  itself 
upon  the  constitution  of  his  country ;  and  whose 
memory,  the  government,  illustrious  fabric,  rest- 
ing on  this  basis,  will  perpetuate  while  it  lasts  ;  and 
shaken  by  the  violence  of  party,  should  it  fall,  which 
may  Heaven  avert,  his  prophetic  declarations  will 
be  found  inscribed  on  its  ruins. 

5.  The  Counsellor,  who  was  at  once  the  pride 
of  the  bar  and  the  admiration  of  the  court.  Whose 
apprehensions  were  quick  as  lightning,  and  whose 
development  of  truth  was  luminous  as  its  path — 
"Whose  argument  no  change  of  circumstances  could 
embarrass — WThose  knowledge  appeared  intuitive  ; 
and  who  by  a  single  glance,  and  with  as  much  facil- 
ity as  the  eye  of  the  eagle  passes  over  the  landscape, 
surveyed  the  whole  field  of  controversy — saw  in 
what  way  truth  might  be  most  successfully  defended, 
and  how  error  must  be  approached.  And  who,  with- 
out ever  stopping,  ever  hesitating,  by  a  rapid  and 
manly  march,  led  the  listening  judge  and  the  fasci- 
nated juror,  step  by  step,  through  a  delightsome  re- 
gion, brightening  as  he  advanced,  till  his  argument 
rose  to  demonstration,  and  eloquence  was  rendered 
useless  by  conviction. 

6.  Whose  talents  were  employed  on  the  side  of 
righteousness.      Whose  voice,  whether  in  the  coun- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 


231 


cil-chamber  or  at  the  bar  of  justice,  was  virtue's  con- 
solation. At  whose  approach,  oppressed  humanity 
felt  a  secret  rapture,  and  the  heart  of  injured  inno- 
cence leapt  for  joy. 

7.  Where  Hamilton  was,  in  whatever  sphere  he 
moved,  the  friendless  had  a  friend,  the  fatherless  a 
father ;  and  the  poor  man,  though  unable  to  reward 
his  kindness,  found  an  advocate.  It  was  when  the 
rich  oppressed  the  poor — when  the  powerful  men- 
aced the  defenceless — when  truth  was  disregarded, 
or  the  eternal  principles  of  justice  violated — at  was 
on  these  occasions  that  he  exerted  all  his  strength. 
It  was  on  these  occasions  that  he  sometimes  soared 
so  high,  and  shone  with  a  radiance  so  transcendent, 
I  had  almost  said,  so  "  heavenly,  as  filled  those 
around  him  with  awe,  and  gave  to  him  the  force 
and  authority  of  a  prophet." 

8.  The  Patf.iot,  whose  integrity  baffled  the  scru- 
tiny of  inquisition.  Whose  manly  virtue  never  shap- 
ed itself  to  circumstances.  Who,  always  great,  al- 
ways himself,  stood  amidst  the  varying  tides  of  party, 
firm,  like  the  rock,  which,  far  from  land,  lifts  its  ma- 
jestic top  above  the  waves,  and  remains  unshaken 
by  the  storms  which  agitate  the  ocean. 

9.  The  Friend,  who  knew  no  guile.  Whose 
bosom  was  transparent,  and  deep,  in  the  bottom  of 
whose  heart  was  rooted  every  tender  and  sympathet- 
ic virtue.  Whose  various  worth  opposing  parties 
acknowledged  while  alive,  and  on  whose  tomb  they 
unite  with  equal  sympathy  and  grief  to  heap  their 
honors. 


232  THI     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 

Poetry. 


THE    PULPIT. 


1.  The  pulpit,  therefore— (and  I  name  it  fill'd 
With  solemn  awe,  that  bids  me  well  beware 
With  what  intent  1  touch  that  holy  thing) — 
The  pulpit — (when  the  sat'rist  has  at  last, 
Strutting  and  vap'nng  in  an  empty  school, 
Spent  all  his  force,  and  made  no  proselyte) — 

I  say  the  pulpit  (in  the  sober  use 

Of  its  legitimate  peculiar  pow'rs) 

Ma9t  stand  acknowledg'd,  while  the  world  shall  stand, 

The  most  important  and  effectual  guard, 

Support,  and  ornament,  of  Virtue's  cause. 

There  si?.nds  the  messenger  of  truth  ;  there  siandg 

The  legate  of  the  skies! — His  theme  divine, 

His  office  sacred,  his  credentials  clear. 

By  him  the  violated  law  speaks  out 

Its  thuniers;  and  by  him,  in  strains  as  sweet 

As  angels  use,  the  Gospel  whispers  peace. 

He  'stabli«hes  the  strong,  restores  the  weak, 

Reclaims  the  wand'rer,  binds  the  broken  heart, 

And,  arm'd  himself  in  panoply  complete 

Of  heav'nly  temper,  furnishes  with  arms 

Bright  as  his  own,  and  trains,  by  every  rule 

Of  holy  discipline,  to  glorious  war, 

The  sacramental  host  of  God's  elect ! 

2.  I  venerate  the  man,  whose  heart  is  warm, 
Whose  hands   are  pure,  whose  doctrine  and  whose 
Coincident,  exhibit  lucid  proof  [life* 
That  he  is  honest  in  the  sacred  cause. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  233 

To  such  I  render  more  than  mere  respect, 

Whose  actions  say  that  they  respect  themselves. 

But  loose  in  morals,  and  in  manners  vain, 

In  conversation  frivolous,  in  dress 

Extreme,  at  once  rapacious  and  profuse ; 

Frequent  in  park  with  lady  at  his  side, 

Ambling  and  prattling  scandal  as  he  goes  ; 

But  rare  at  home,  and  never  at  his  books, 

Or  with  his  pen,  save  when  he  scrawls  a  card ; 

Constant  at  routs,  familiar  with  a  round 

Of  ladyships,  a  stranger  to  the  poor ; 

Ambitious  of  preferment  for  its  gold, 

And  well  prepard,  by  ignorance  and  sloth, 

By  infidelity  and  love  of  the  wrorld, 

To  make  God's  work  a  sinecure  ;  a  slave 

To  his  own  pleasures  and  his  patron's  pride ; 

From  such  apostles,  O  ye  mitred  heads, 

Preserve  the  church  !  and  lay  not  careless  hands 

On  skulls  that  cannot  teach,  and  will  not  learn. 

3.  Would  I  describe  a  preacher,  such  as  Paul, 
Were  he  on  earth,  would  hear,  approve,  and  own, 
Paul  should  himself  direct  me.     1  would  trace 
His  master-strokes,  and  draw  from  his  design. 
I  would  express  him  simple,  grave,  sincere  ; 
[n  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner  ;  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 
And  natural  in  gesture  ;  much  impress'd 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge, 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too ;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men. 
U  2 


234  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORAXOfc. 

Behold  the  picture  ! — Is  it  like  ? — Like  whom  ? 
The  things  that  mount  the  rostrum  with  a  skip, 
And  then  skip  down  again ;  pronounce  a  text ; 
Cry — hem  ;  and,  reading  what  they  never  wrote 
Just  Mteen  minutes,  huddle  up  their  work, 
And  with  a  well-bred  whimper  close  the  scene  ! 

4.  In  man  or  woman,  but  far  most  in  man, 
And  most  of  all  in  man  that  ministers 
And  serves  the  altar,  in  my  soul  I  loathe 
AH  affectation.     'Tis  my  perfect  scorn  ; 
Object  of  my  implacable  disgust. 
What  !  will  a  man  play  tricks — will  he  indulge 
A  silly  fond  conceit  of  his  fair  form, 
And  just  proportion,  fashionable  mien, 
And  pretty  face,  in  presence  of  his  God? 
Or  will  he  seek  to  dazzle  me  with  tropes, 
As  with  the  diamond  on  his  lily  hand, 
And  play  his  brilliant  parts  before  my  eyes, 
When  I  am  hungry  for  the  bread  of  life  ? 
He  mocks  his  Maker,  prostitutes  and  shames 
His  noble  office,  and,  instead  of  truth, 
Displaying  his  own  beauty,  starves  his  flock. 

Cowper. 

VERSES, 

Supposed  to  have  been  written  by  Alexander  Selkirk,  during 
his  solitary  abode  in  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez. 

1  I  am  monarch  of  ,11  I  survey, 

My  right  there  is  none  to  dispute  ; 
From  the  centre  all  round  to  the  sea, 
I  am  lord  of  the  fowl  and  the  brute. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  235 

O  Solitude  !  where  are  the  charms, 
That  sages  have  seen  in  thy  face  ? 

Better  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms, 
Than  reign  in  this  horrible  place. 

2  I  am  out  of  humanity's  reach, 

I  must  finish  my  journey  alone, 
Never  hear  the  sweet  music  of  speech, 

I  start  at  the  sound  of  my  own. 
The  beasts  that  roam  over  the  plain* 

My  form  with  indifference  see  ; 
s  They  are  so  unacquainted  with  man, 

Their  tameness  is  shocking  to  me 

3  Society,  friendship,  and  love, 

Divinely  bestow'd  upon  man, 
O,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

How  soon  would  1  taste  you  again  ! 
My  sorrows  I  then  might  assuage 

In  the  ways  of  religion  and  truth, 
Might  learn  from  the  wisdom  of  age, 

And  be  cheer'd  by  the  sallies  of  youth, 

4  Religion  !  what  treasure  untold 

Resides  in  that  heavenly  word  ! 
More  precious  than  silver  and  gold, 

Or  all  that  this  earth  can  afford. 
Eut  the  sound  of  the  church-going  bell 

These  vallies  and  rocks  never  heard, 
Never  sigh'd  at  the  sound  of  the  knell, 

Or  smil'd  when  a  sabbath  appeared. 
3  Ye  winds,  that  have  made  me  your  sport5 

Convey  to  this  desohte  shore, 
Some  cordial  endearing  report 

Of  a  land  1  shall  visit  no  more, 


236  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

My  friends,  do  they  now  and  then  send 

A  wish  or  a  thought  after  me  ? 
O  tell  me  I  yet  have  a  friend, 

Though  a  friend  I  am  never  to  see. 

6  How  fleet  is  a  glance  of  the  mind  ! 

Compared  with  the  speed  of  its  flight, 
The  tempest  itself  lags  behind, 

And  the  swift-winged  arrows  of  light. 
When  I  think  of  my  own  native  land. 

In  a  moment  I  seem  to  be  there  ; 
But,  alas  !  recollection  at  hand 

Soon  hurries  me  back  to  despair. 

7  But  the  sea  fowl  is  gone  to  her  nest, 

The  beast  is  laid  down  in  his  lair; 
Even  here  is  a  season  of  rest, 

And  I  to  my  cabin  repair. 
There's  mercy  in  every  place, 

And  mercy,  encouraging  thought, 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 

And*  reconciles  man  to  his  lot.  Cowper. 


LOVE  OF  THE  WORLD  REPROVED ;  OR,  HYPOCRISY  DETECTED. 

1.  Thus  says  the  prophet  of  the  Turk, 
Good  musselman,  abstain  from  pork  ; 
There  is  a  part  in  ev'ry  swine, 
No  friend  or  follower  of  mine 
May  taste,  whatever  his  inclination, 
On  pain  of  excommunication. 
Such  Mahomet's  mysterious  charge, 
And  thus  he  left  the  point  at  large. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  237 

Had  he  the  sinful  part  express'd, 
They  might  with  safety  eat  the  rest; 
But  for  one  piece  they  thought  it  hard 
From  the  whole  hog  to  be  debarr'd ; 
And  set  their  wit  at  work  to  iind 
What  joint  the  prophet  had  in  mind. 
Much  controversy  straight  arose, 
These  choose  the  back,  the  belly  those  j 
By  some  'tis  confidently  said 
He  meant  not  to  forbid  the  head  ; 
While  others  at  that  doctrine  rail, 
And  piously  prefer  the  tail. 
Thus,  conscience  freed  from  ev'ry  clog, 
Mahometans  eat  up- the  hog. 

2.  You  laugh — 'tis  well — The  tale  applied 
May  make  you  laugh  on  t'other  side. 
Renounce  the  world — the  preacher  cries  j 
We  do — a  multitude  replies. 
While  one  as  innocent  regards 
A  snug  and  friendly  game  at  cards  ; 
And  one,  whatever  you  may  say, 
Can  see  no  evil  in  a  play  ; 
Some  love  a  concert  or  a  race  ; 
And  others  shooting  and  the  chase. 
Revil'd  and  iov'd,  renounc'd  and  follow'd, 
Thus,  bit  by  bit,  the  world  is  swallow'd  ; 
Each  thinks  his  neighbor  makes  too  free, 
Yet  likes  a  slice  as  well  as  he  : 
With  sophistry  their  sauce  they  sweeten, 
Till  quite  from  tail  to  snout  'tis  eaten. 

Cowper1, 


238  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

| 

THE    HOSE. 

I.   The  Rose  had  been  wash'd,  just  wash'd  in  a  show'r, 
Which  Mary  to  Anna  convey'd, 
The  plentiful  moisture  encumber'd  the  flow'r, 
And  weighed  down  its  beautiful  head. 
3.  The  cup  was  all  fill'd,  and  the  leaves  were  all  wet, 
And  it  seem'd  to  a  fanciful  view, 
To  weep  for  the  buds  it  had  left  with  regret, 
On  the  flourishing  bush  where  it  grew. 

3.  1  hastily  seiz'd  it,  unfit  as  it  was, 

For  a  nosegay,  so  dripping  and  drown'd, 
And  swinging  it  rudely,  too  rudely,  alas  ! 
I  snapp'd  it — it  fell  to  the  ground. 

4.  And  such,  I  exclaimed,  is  the  pitiless  part 

Some  act  by  the  delicate  mind, 
Regardless  of  wringling  and  breaking  a  heart 
Already  to  sorrow  resign'd. 

5.  This  elegant  rose,  had  I  shaken  it  less, 

Might  have  bloom'd  with  its  owner  awhile  ; 
And  the  tear  that  is  wip'd  with  a  little  address, 
May  be  follow'd,  perhaps,  by  a  smile. 

Cowper. 

THE    NEGROES    COMPLAINT. 

1.  Forc'p  from  home  and  all  its  pleasure?, 
Afric\s  coast  1  left  forlorn  ; 
To  increase  a  stranger's  treasures. 

O'er  the  raging  billows  borne. 
hlcn  from  England  bought  and  sold  me, 
Paid  my  price  in  paltry  gold  ; 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  239 

But,  though  slave  they  have  enrolPd  me, 
Minds  are  never  to  be  sold, 

2.  Still  in  thought  as  free  as  ever, 

What  are  England's  rights,  I  ask, 
Me  from  my  delights  to  sever, 

Me  to  torture,  me  to  task  ? 
Fleecy  locks  and  black  complexion 

Cannot  forfeit  Nature's  claim ; 
Skins  may  differ,  but  affection 

Dwells  in  white  and  black  the  same. 

3.  Why  did  all-creating  Nature 

Make  the  plant  for  which  we  toil  ? 


Sigh 
1i 


Sweat  of  our's  must  dress  the  soil. 
Think,  ye  masters,  iron  hearted, 

Lolling  at  your  jovial  boards ; 
Think  how  many  backs  have  smarted 

For  the  sweets  your  cane  affords. 

4.  Is  there,  as  ye  sometimes  tell  us, 

Is  there  one,  who  reigns  on  high  ? 
Has  he  bid  you  buy  and  sell  us, 

1  Speaking  from  his  throne,  the  sky  ? 
Ask  him,  if  your  knotted  scourges, 

Matches,  blood-extorting  screws, 
Are  the  means  that  duty  urges, 

Agents  of  his  will  to  use  ? 

5.  Hark!  he  answers — wild  tornadoes, 

Strewing  yonder  sea  with  wrecks  ; 
Wasting  towns,  plantations,  meadows, 

Are  the  voice  with  which  he  speaks 
He,  foreseeing  what  vexations 

Afric's  sons  should  undergo,  * 


240  THE    CHRISTIAN      ORATOR, 

Fix'd  their  tyrants'  habitations 

Where  his  whirlwinds  answer — No. 

6.  By  our  biood  in  Afric  wasted, 

Ere  our  necks  receivM  the  chain  ; 
By  the  missies  that  we  tasted, 

Crossing  in  your  barks  the  main  ; 
By  t)iw  sufferings  since  ye  brought  us 

To  the  man-degrading  mart ; 
All  sustained  by  patience,  taught  us 

Only  by  a  broken  heart ; 

7.  Deem  our  nation  brutes  no  longer, 

Till  some  reason  ye  shall  find 
Worthier  of  regard,  and  stronger 

Than  the  color  of  our  kind. 
Slaves  of  gold,  whose  sordid  dealings 

Tarnish  all  your  boasted  pow'rs, 
Prove  that  you  have  human  feelings, 

Ere  you  proudly  question  our's ! 

Cowper, 

THE    NIGHTINGALE   AND    GLOW-WORM, 

1.  A  nightingale,  that  all  day  long 
Had  cheer'd  the  village  with  his  song, 
Nor  yet  at  eve  his  note  suspended, 
Nor  yet  when  eventide  was  ended, 
Began  to  feel,  as  well  he  might, 
The  keen  demands  of  appetite  ; 
*Vhen,  looking  eagerly  around, 
He  spied  far  off,  upon  the  ground, 
A  something  shining  in  the  dark, 
And  knew  the  glow-worm  by  his  spark ; 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORAtOR.  241 

So  stooping  down  from  hawthorn  top, 
He  thought  to  put  him  in  his  crop. 
The  worm,  aware  of  his  intent, 
Harangu'd  him  thus,  right  eloquent — 

2.  Did  you  admire  my  lamp,  quoth  he, 
As  much  as  I  your  minstrelsy, 

You  would  abhor  to  do  me  wrong, 
As  much  as  I  to  spoil  your  song ; 
For  'twas  the  self-same  pow'r  divine 
Taught  you  to  sing,  and  me  to  shine  ; 
That  you  with  music,  I  with  light, 
Might  beautify  and  cheer  the  night. 
The  songster  heard  his  short  oration, 
And  warbling  out  his  approbation, 
Releas'd  him,  as  my  story  tells, 
And  found  a  supper  somewhere  else. 

3.  Hence  jarring  sectaries  may  learn 
Their  real  interest  to  discern  ; 

That  brother  should  not  war  with  brother, 
And  worry  and  devour  each  other ; 
But  sing  and  shine  by  sweet  consent, 
Till  life's  poor  transient  night  is  spent. 
Respecting  in  each  other's  case 
The  gifts  of  nature  and  of  grace. 

4.  Those  Christians  best  deserve  the  name, 
Who  studiously  make  peace  their  aim ; 
Peace  both  the  duty  and  the  prize 

Of  him  that  creeps,  and  him  that  flies.       > 

Cowptr. 


U42  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

MUTUAL    FORBEARANCE    NECESSARY    TO    THE    HAPPINESS    OF 
THE    MARRIED    STATE. 

1.  The  lady  thus  addressed  her  spouse — 
What  a  mere  dungeon  is  this  house  ! 

By  no  means  large  enough ;  and  was  it, 
Yet  this  dull  room,  and  that  dark  closet, 
Those  hangings  with  their  worn-out  graces, 
Long  beards,  long  noses,  and  pale  faces, 
Are  such  an  antiquated  scene, 
They  overwhelm  me  with  the  spleen. 
Sir  Humphrey  shooting  in  the  dark, 
Makes  answer  quite  beside  the  mark  : 
No  doubt,  my  dear  ;  I  bade  him  come, 
Engag'd  myself  to  be  at  home, 
And  shall  expect  him  at  the  door. 
Precisely  when  the  clock  strikes  four. 

2.  You  are  so  deaf,  the  lady  cry'd, 
(And  raisM  her  voice,  and  frownM  beside,} 
You  are  so  sadly  deaf,  my  dear, 

What  shall  I  do  to  make  you  hear  ? 

3.  Dismiss  poor  Harry !  he  replies  ; 
Some  people  are  more  nice  than  wise. 
For  one  slight  trespass  all  this  stir? 
What  if  he  did  ride  whip  and  spur  \ 
*Twas  but  a  mile — your  fav'rite  horse 
Will  never  look  one  hair  the  worse. 

4.  Well,  1  protest  'tis  past  all  bearing- 
Child  !  I  am  rather  hard  of  hearing — 
Yes,  truly — one  must  scream  and  bawl : 

I  tell  you,  you  can't  hear  at  all ! 
Then  with  a  voice  exceeding  low, 
No  matter  if  you  hear  or  no. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR*  243 

5.  Alas  !    and  is  domestic  strife, 
That  sorest  iU  of  human  life, 

A  plague  so  little  to  be  fear'd, 
As  to  be  wantonly  incurr'd, 
To  gratify  a  fretful  passion, 
On  every  trivial  provocation  ? 
The  kindest  and  the  happiest  pair 
Will  find  occasion  to  forbear  ; 
And  something  every  day  they  live, 
To  pity,  and,  perhaps,  forgive. 
But  if  infirmities,  that  fall 
In  common  to  the  lot  of  all, 
A  blemish  or  a  sense  impaired 
Are  crimes  so  little  to  be  spar'd, 
Then  farewell  all,  that  must  create 
The  comfort  of  the  wedded  state  ; 
Instead  of  harmony,  'tis  jar, 
And  tumult,  and  intestine  war. 

6.  The  love  that  cheers  life's  latest  stage, 
Proof  against  sickness  and  old  age, 
Preserv'd  by  virtue  from  declension, 
Becomes  not  weary  of  attention ; 

But  lives,  when  that  exterior  grace, 
Which  first  inspirM  the  flame,  decays, 
*Tis  gentle,  delicate,  and  kind, 
To  faults  compassionate  or  blind. 
And  will  with  sympathy  endure 
Those  evils,  it  would  gladly  cure  : 
But  angry,  coarse,  and  harsh  expression, 
Shows  love  to  be  a  mere  profession  ; 
Proves  that  the  heart  is  none  of  his, 
Or  sgon  expels  him  if  it  is. 

Cowper* 


244  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 


THE    MAN    PERISHING    IN    THE    SNOW    STORM. 

1,  As  thus  the  snows  arise  ;  and  foul,  and  fierce, 
All  Winter  drives  along  the  darken'd  air ; 
In  his  own  loose- revolving  fields,  the  swain 
Disaster' d  stands ;  sees  other  hills  ascend, 
Of  unknown  joyless  brow  ;   and  other  scenes, 
Of  horrid  prospect,  shag  the  trackless  plain  : 
Nor  finds  the  river,  nor  the  forest,  hid 
Beneath  the  formless  wild  ;  but  wanders  on 
From  hill  to  dale,  still  more  and  more  astray; 
Impatient  flouncing  through  the  drifted  heaps, 
Stung  with  the  tho'ts  of  home  ;  the  tho'ts  of  home 
Rush  on  his  nerves,  and  call  their  vigor  forth 
In  many  a  vain  attempt.     How  sinks  his  soul ! 
What  black  despair,  what  horror  fills  his  heart  I    ■ 
Wrhen  for  the  du?ky  spot,  which  fancy  feign'd 
His  tufted  cottage  rising  through  the  snow, 
He  meets  the  roughness  of  the  middle  waste, 
Far  from  the  track,  and  blest  abode  of  man  ,• 
While  round  him  night  resistless  closes  fast, 
And  every  tempest  howling  o'er  his  head, 
Renders  the  savage  wilderness  more  wild. 
Then  throng  the  busy  shapes  into  his  mind, 
Of  covered  pits,  unfathomably  deep, 
A  dire  descent !  beyond  the  power  of  frost ; 
Of  faithless  bogs ;  of  precipices  huge 
Smooth'd  up  with  snow:  and,  what  is  land,  unknown, 
What  water,  of  the  still  unfrozen  spring, 
In  the  loose  marsh,  or  solitary  lake, 
Where  the  fresh  fountain  from  the  bottom  boils. 
Th^se  check  his  fearful  steps ;  and  down  he  sinks 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  245 

Beneath  the  shelter  of  the  shapeless  drift, 
Thinking  o'er  all  the  bitterness  of  death, 
Mix'd  with  the  tender  anguish  Nature  shoots 
Through  the  wrung  bosom  of  the  dying  man, 
His  wife,  his  children,  and  his  friends  unseen, 

2.  In  vain  for  him  th'  officious  wife  prepares 
The  fire  fair-blazing,  and  the  vestment  warm ; 
In  vain  his  little  children,  peeping  out 

Into  the  mingling  storm,  demand  their  sire 
With  tears  of  artless  innocence.     Alas  ! 
Nor  wife  nor  children  more  shall  he  behold, 
Nor  friends,  nor  sacred  home.     On  every  nerve 
The  deadly  winter  seizes,  shuts  up  sense, 
And  o'er  his  inmost  vitals,  creeping  cold, 
Lays  him  along  the  snows  a  stiffened  corse, 
Stretch'd  out,  and  bleaching  in  the  northern  blast 

3.  Ah  !  little  think  the  gay  licentious  proud, 
Whom  pleasure,  power,  and  affluence  surround ; 
They,  who  their  thoughtless  hours  in  giddy  mirth, 
And  wanton,  often  cruel,  riot  waste  ; 

Ah  !  little  think  they,  while  they  dance  along, 
How  many  feel,  this  very  moment,  death, 
And  all  the  sad  variety  of  pain ! 
How  many  sink  in  the  devouring  flood, 
Or  more  devouring  flame  !  How  many  bleed, 
By  shameful  variance  betwiit  man  and  man ! 
How  many  pine  in  want,  and  dungeon  glooms, 
Shut  from  the  common  air,  and  common  use 
Of  their  own  limbs!  How  many  drink  the  cup 
Of  baleful  grief,  or  eat  the  bitter  bread 
Of  misery  !  Sore  pierc'd  by  wint'ry  winds* 
How  many  shrink  into  the  sordid  hut 
W  2 


246  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

Of  cheerless  poverty  !  How  many  shake 
With  all  the  fiercer  tortures  of  the  mind, 
Unbounded  passion,  madness,  guilt,  remorse  ; 
Whence  tumbled  headlong  from  the  height  of  life, 
They  furnish  matter  for  the  tragic  Muse  ! 

4.   E'en  in  the  vale,  where  wisdom  loves  to  dwell, 
With  friendship,  peace,  and  contemplation  joinM, 
How  many,  rack'd  with  honest  passions,  droop 
In  deep  retired  distress  !  How  many  stand 
Around  the  death-bed  of  their  dearest  friends, 
And  point  the  parting  anguish  !  Thought  fond  man 
Of  these,  and  all  the  thousand  nameless  ills 
That  one  incessant  struggle  render  life, 
One  scene  of  toil,  of  suffering,  and  of  fate  ; 
Vice  in  his  high  career  would  stand  appall'd, 
And  heedless  rambling  impulse  learn  to  think  : 
The  conscious  heart  of  charity  would  warm, 
And  her  wide  wish  benevolence  dilate  ; 
The  social  tear  would  rise,  the  social  sigh  ; 
And  into  clear  perfection,  gradual  bliss, 
Refining  still,  the  social  passions  work. 

Thomson* 


THE    TWO    GARDENERS. 

1.  Two  gardeners  once  beneath  an  oak, 
Lay  down  to  rest,  when  Jack  thus  spoke — 
"  You  must  confess,  dear  Will,  that  Nature 
Is  but  a  blund'nng  kind  of  creature  ; 
And  I — nay,  why  that  look  of  terror? 
Could  teach  her  how  to  mend  her  error." 
"Your  talk,"  quoth  Will,  "  is  bold  and  odd. 
What  you  call  Nature,  I  call  God.'* 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  247 

"  Well,  call  him  by  what  name  you  will,55 
Quoth  Jack,  "  he  manages  but  ill ; 
Nay,  from  the  very  tree  we're  under, 
I'll  prove  that  Providence  can  blunder." 
Quoth  Will,  M  Through  thick  and  thin  you  dash, 
I  shudder,  Jack,  at  words  so  rash ; 
I  trust  to  what  the  Scriptures  tell, 
He  hath  done  always  all  things  well." 

2.  Quoth  Jack,  uPm  lately  grown  a  wit, 
And  think  all  good  a  lucky  hit. 

To  prove  that  Providence  can  err, 
Not  words,  but  facts,  the  truth  aver, 
To  this  vast  oak  lift  up  thine  eyes,    . 
Then  view  that  acorn's  paltry  size  ; 
How  foolish  on  a  tree  so  tall, 
To  place  thaftiny  cup  and  ball. 
Now  look*  again,  yon  pompion*  see, 
It  weighs  two  pounds  at  least,  nay  three ; 
Yet  this  large  fruit,  where  is  it  found  ? 
Why,  meanly  trailing  on  the  ground. 
Had  providence  ask'd  my  advice, 
I  would  have  chang'd  it  in  a  trice  ; 
I  would  have  said  at  Nature's  birth, 
Let  acorns  creep  upon  the  earth ; 
But  let  the  pompion,  vast  and  round, 
On  the  oak's  lofty  boughs  be  found." 

3.  He  said — and  as  he  rashly  spoke, 
Lo  |  from  the  branches  of  the  oak, 

A  wind,  which  suddenly  arose, 

Beat  show'rs  of  acorns  on  his  nose  ; 

"  Oh  !  oh  <"  quoth  Jack;  "  I'm  wrong  I  see, 

*A  Gourd. 


24S  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

And  God  is  wiser  far  than  me. 
For  did  a  show  t  of  pompions  large, 
Thus  on  my  naked  face  discharge, 
I  had  been  bruis'd  and  blinded  quite, 
What  Heav'n  appoints  I  find  is  right ; 
Whene'er  I'm  tempted  to  rebel, 
PI1  think  how  light  the  acorns  fell ; 
Whereas  on  oaks  had  pompions  hung, 
My  broken  skull  had  stopp'd  my  tongue."' 

H.  More. 


GAIETY. 


1.  It  is  the  constant  revolution,  stale 
And  tasteless,  of  the  same  repeated  joys, 
That  palls  and  satiates,  and  makes  languid  life 
A  pedlar's  pack,  that  bows  the  bearer  down. 
Health  suffers,  and  the  spirits  ebb,  the  heart 
Recoils  from  its  own  choice — at  the  full  feast 
Is  fami^h'd — finds  no  music  in  the  song, 
No  smartness  in  the  jest ;  and  wonders  why. 
Yet  thousand  still  desire  to  journey  on, 
Though  halt,  and  weary  of  the  path  they  tread. 
The  paralytic,  who  can  hold  her  cards, 
But  cannot  play  them,  borrows  a  friend's  hand, 
To  deal  and  shuffle,  to  divide  and  sort 
Her  mingled  suits  and  sequences;  and  sits, 
Spectatress  both  and  spectacle,  a  sad 
And  silent  cypher,  while  her  proxy  plays. 
Others  are  dragged  into  the  crowded  room 
Between  supporters  ;  and,  once  seated,  siti, 
Through  downright  inability  to  rise, 
Till  the  stout  bearers  lift  the  corpse  again. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  249 

These  speak  a  loud  memento.     Yet  e'en  these 

Themselves  love  life,  and  cling  to  it,  as  he 

That  overhangs  a  torrent,  to  a  twig. 

They  love  it,  and  yet  loathe  it ;  fear  to  die, 

Yet  scorn  the  purposes  for  which  they  live. 

Then  wherefore  not  renounce  them?  No — the  dread. 

The  slavish  dread  of  solitude,  that  breeds 

Reflection  and  remorse,  the  fear  of  shame, 

And  their  invet'rate  habits,  ail  forbid. 

2.  Whom  call  we  gay  ?  That  honor  has  been  long 
The  boast  of  mere  pretenders  to  the  name, 
The  innocent  are  gay — the  lark  is  gay, 
That  dries  his  feathers,  saturate  with  dew, 
Beneath  the  rosy  cloud,  while  yet  the  beams 
Of  dayspring  overshoot  his  humble  nest. 
The  peasant  too,  a  witness  of  his  song, 
Himself  a  songster,  is  as  gay  as  he. 
But  save  me  from  the  gaiety  of  those, 
Whose  headaches  nail  them  to  a  noonday  bed ; 
And  save  me  too  from  theirs,  whose  haggard  eyes 
Flash  desperation,  and  betray  their  pangs 
For  property  strippM  off  by  cruel  chance  ; 
From  gaiety,  that  fills  the  bones  with  pain, 
The  mouth  with  blasphemy,  the  heart  with  wo. 


Cowper. 


Dialogues. 

TRUE   AND    FALSE    PHILANTHROPY. 

A  Dialogue  between  Mr.  Fantom  and  Mr.  Trueman. 
Fantom.  I  despise  a  narrow  field.     O  for  the  reign 
of  universal  benevolence !  I  want  to  make  all  man- 
kind good  and  happy. 


250  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

Trueman.  Dear  me  !  sure  that  must  be  a  wholesale 
sort  of  a  job  :  had  not  you  better  try  your  hand  at  a 
town  or  a  parish  first ! 

Fantom.  Sir,  I  have  a  plan  in  my  head  for  relieving 
the  miseries  of  the  whole  world.  Every  thing  is  bad  as 
it  now  stands.  I  would  alter  all  the  laws,  and  do  away 
all  the  religions,  and  put  an  end  to  all  the  wars  in  the 
world.  I  would  every  where  redress  the  injustice  of" 
fortune,  or  what  the  vulgar  call,  Providence.  I  would 
put  an  end  to  all  punishments ;  I  would  not  leave  a 
single  prisoner  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  This  is  what 
I  call  doing  things  on  a  grand  scale. 

Trueman.  A  scale  with  a  vengeance  !  As  to  releas- 
ing the  prisoners,  however,  I  do  not  so  much  like 
that,  as  it  would  be  liberating  a  few  rogues  at  the  ex- 
pense of  all  honest  men;  but  as  to  the  rest  of  your 
plan,  if  all  Christian  countries  would  be  so  good  as  to 
turn  Christians,  it  might  be  helped  on  a  good  deal. 
There  would  be  still  misery  enough  left  indeed ;  be- 
cause God  intended  this  world  should  be  earth  and  not 
heaven.  But,  sir,  among  all  your  abolitions,  you  must 
abolish  human  corruption  before  you  can  make  the 
world  quite  as  perfect  as  you  pretend.  You  philoso- 
phers seem  to  me  to  be  ignorant  of  the  very  first 
seed  and  principle  of  misery — sin,  sir,  sin  :  Your  sys- 
tem of  reform  is  radically  defective  ;  for  it  does  not 
comprehend  that  sinful  nature  from  which  all  misery 
proceeds. 

Fantom.  Your  project  would  rivet  the  chains  which 
mine  is  designed  to  break. 

Trueman.  Sir,  I  have  no  projects.  Projects  are  in 
general  the  offspring  of  restlessness,  vanity  and  idle- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  251 

ness.  I  am  too  busy  for  projects,  too  contented  for 
theories,  and,  I  hope,  have  too  much  honesty  and  hu- 
mility for  a  philosopher.  The  utmost  extent  of  my 
ambition  at  present  is,  to  redress  the  wrongs  of  a  par- 
ish apprentice,  who  has  been  cruelly  used  by  his  mas- 
ter :  indeed  I  have  another  little  scheme,  which  is  to 
prosecute  a  fellow  in  our  street  who  has  suffered  a 
poor  wretch  in  a  workhouse,  of  which  he  had  the 
care,  to  perish  through  neglect,  and  you  must  assist 

me. 

Fantom.  The  parish  must  do  that.  You  must  not 
apply  to  me  for  the  redress  of  such  petty  grievances. 
I  own  that  the  wrongs  of  the  Poles  and  South  Ameri- 
cans so  fill  my  mind,  as  to  leave  me  no  time  to  attend 
to  the  petty  sorrows  of  workhouses  and  parish 
apprentices.  It  is  provinces,  empires,  continents, 
that  the  benevolence  of  the  philosopher  embraces ; 
every  one  can  do  a  little  paltry  good  to  his  next 
neighbour. 

Trueman,  Every  one  can,  but  I  do  not  see  that  ev- 
ery one  does.  If  they  would,  indeed,  your  business 
would  be  ready  done  to  j<i\iT  hands,  and  your  grand 
ocean  of  benevolence  would  be  filled  with  the^rops 
which  private  charity  would  throw  into  it.  I  am  glad, 
however,  you  are  such  a  friend  to  the  prisoners,  be- 
cause I  am  just  now  getting  a  little  subscription  from  our 
club,  to  set  free  your  poor  old  friend  Tom  Saunders, 
a  very  honest  brother  tradesman,  who  got  first  into 
debt,  and  then  into  gaol,  through  no  fault  of  his  own, 
but  merely  through  the  pressure  of  the  times.  We  have 
each  of  us  allowed  a  trifle  every  week  towards  maia- 
taining  Tom's  young  family  since  he  has  been  in  pris- 
on ;  but  we  think  we  shall  do  much  more  service  to 


252  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Saunders,  and  indeed  in  the  end  lighten  our  own 
expense,  by  paying  down  at  once  a  little  sum  to 
restore  to  him  the  comforts  of  life,  and  put  him  in  a 
way  of  maintaining  his  family  again.  We  have  made 
up  the  money  all  except  five  guineas  ;  I  am  already 
promised  four,  and  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  give 
me  the  fifth.  And  so  for  a  single  guinea,  without  any 
of  the  trouble,  the  meetings,  and  the  looking  into  his 
affairs,  which  we  have  had ;  which,  let  me  tell  you, 
is  the  best,  and  to  a  man  of  business  the  dearest  part 
of  charity,  you  will  at  once  have  the  pleasure  (and  it 
is  no  small  one)  of  helping  to  save  a  worthy  family 
from  starving,  of  redeeming  an  old  friend  from  gaol, 
and  of  putting  a  little  of  your  boasted  benevolence 
into  &ction.  Realize!  master  Fantom :  there  is  noth- 
ing like  realizing. 

Fantom.  "  Why,  hark  ye,  Mr.  Trueman,  do  not 
think  I  value  a  guinea;  no  sir,  I  despise  money ;  it  is 
trash,  it  is  dirt,  and  beneath  the  regard  of  the  wise 
man.  It  is  one  of  the  unfeeling  inventions  of  'artifi- 
cial society.  Sir,  I  could  talk  to  you  for  half  a  day  on 
the  abuse  of  riches,  and  on  my  own  contempt  of 
money." 

Trueman.  O  pray  do  not  give  yourself  the 
trouble ;  it  will  be  an  easier  way  by  half  of  vindi- 
cating yourself  from  one,  and  of  proving  the  other, 
just  to  put  your  hand  in  your  pocket,  and  give  me 
a  guinea,  without  saying  a  word  about  it :  and  then 
to  you  who  value  time  so  much,  and  money  so  little, 
it  will  cut  the  matter  short.  But  come  now  (for  I 
tec  you  will  give  nothing)   I  should  be  mighty  glad 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  253 

to  know  what  is  the  sort  of  good  you  do  yourselves., 
since  you  always  object  to  what  is  done  by  others. 

Fantom.  Sir,  the  object  of  a  true  philosopher  is 
to  diffuse  light  and  knowledge.  I  wish  to  see  the 
whole  world  enlightened. 

Trueman.  Well,  Mr.  Fantom,  you  are  a  wonderful 
man  to  keep  up  such  a  stock  of  benevolence  at  so 
small  an  expense.  To  love  mankind  so  dearly,  and 
yet  avoid  all  opportunities  of  doing  them  good ;  to 
have  such  a  noble  zeal  for  the  millions,  and  to  feel 
so  little  compassion  for  the  units  ;  to  long  to  free  em* 
pires  and  enlighten  kingdoms  ;  and  yet  deny  instruc- 
tion to  your  own  village,  and  comfort  to  your  own 
family.  Surely  none  but  a  philosopher  could  indulge 
so  much  philanthropy  and  so  much  frugality  at  the 
same  time.  But  come,  do  assist  me  in  a  partition  I 
am  making  in  our  poorhouse,  between  the  old,  whom 
I  want  to  have  better  fed^  and  the  young,  whom  1 
want  to  have  more  worked. 

Fantom.  Sir,  my  mind  is  so  engrossed  with  the 
partition  of  Poland,  that  I  cannot  bring  it  down  to  an 
object  of  such  insignificance.  I  despise  the  man 
whose  benevolence  is  swallowed  up  in  the  narrow 
concerns  of  his  own  family,  or  parish,  or  country, 

Trueman.  Well,  now  I  have  a  notion  that  it  is  a* 
well  to  do  one's  own  duty,  as  the  duty  of  another 
man  ;  and  that  to  do  good  at  home,  is  as  well  as  to  do 
good  abroad.  For  my  part  I  had  as  iieve  help  Tom 
Saunders  to  freedom,  as  a  Pole  or  a  South  American, 
though  I  should  be  very  glad  to  help  them  too.  But 
One  must  begin  to  love  somewhere,  and  to  do  good 
somewhere;  and  I  think  it  is  as  natural  to  love  one  a 
X 


254  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOK, 

own  family,  and  to  good  in  one's  own  neighborhood, 
as  to  any  body  else.  And  if  every  man  in  every 
family,  parish,  and  county  did  the  same,  why  then 
all  the  schemes  would  meet,  and  the  end  of  one  par- 
ish, where  I  was  doing  good,  would  be  the  beginning 
of  another  parish  where  somebody  else  was  doing 
good;  so  my  schemes  would  jut  into  my  neighbor's  ; 
his  projects  would  unite  with  those  of  some  other 
local  reformer;  and  all  would  fit  with  a  sort  of  dove- 
tail exactness.  And  what  is  better,  all  would  join 
in  furnishing  a  living  comment  on  that  practical  pre- 
cept :  u  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself." 

Fantom.  Sir,  a  man  of  large  views  will  be  on  the 
watch  for  great  occasions  to  prove  his  benevolence. 

Trueman.  Yes,  Sir ;  but  if  they  are  so  distant  that 
they  cannot  reach  them,  or  so  vast  that  he  cannot 
grasp  them,  he  may  let  a  thousand  little,  snug,  kind, 
good  actions  slip  through  his  fingers  in  the  mean- 
while :  and  so  between  the  great  things  that  he  can- 
not do,  and  the  little  ones  that  he  will  not  do,  life 
passes  and  nothing  will  be  done. 


ON    THE    EDUCATION    OF    DAUGHTERS. 

A  Dialogue  between  two  wealthy  Farmers. 

Worthy.  Mr.  Bragwell,  in  the  management  of  my 
family,  I  don't  consider  what  I  might  afford  only, 
though  that  is  one  great  point ;  but  I  consider  also 
what  is  needful  and  becoming  in  a  man  of  my  sta- 
tion ;  for  there  are  so  many  useful  ways  of  laying  out 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR*  255 

money,  that  I  feel  as  if  it  were  a  sin  to  spend  one 
unnecessary  shilling. — Having  had  the  blessing  of  a 
good  education  myself,  I  have  been  able  to  give  the 
like  advantage  to  my  daughters.  One  of  the  best 
lessons  I  have  taught  them  is,  to  know  themselves  ; 
and  one  proof  that  they  have  learnt  this  lesson  is, 
that  they  are  not  above  any  of  the  duties  of  their 
station.  They  read  and  write  well,  and  when  my  eyes 
are  bad,  they  keep  my  accounts  in  a  very  pretty  man- 
ner. If  I  had  put  them  to  learn  what  you  call  gen- 
teel things^  these  might  either  have  been  of  no  use  to 
them,  and  so  both  time  and  money  might  have  been 
thrown  away  ;  or  they  might  have  proved  worse 
than  nothing  to  them  by  leading  them  into  wrong  no- 
tions, and  wrong  company.  As  to  their  appearance, 
they  are  every  day  nearly  as  you  see  them  now,  and 
on  Sundays  they  are  very  neatly  dressed,  but  it  is 
always  in  a  decent  and  modest  way.  There  are  no 
lappets,  fringes,  furbelows,  and  tawdry  ornaments  ;  no 
trains,  turbans,  and  flounces,  fluttering  about  among 
my  cheese  and  butter.  And  I  should  feel  no  vanity, 
but  much  mortification,  if*  a  stranger,  seeing  farmer 
Worthy's  daughters  at  church,  should  ask  who  those 
fine  ladies  were. 

Bragwell.  Now  I  own  I  should  like  to  have  such 
a  question  asked  concerning  my  daughters.  I  like  to 
make  people  stare  and  envy.  It  makes  one  feel 
oneself  somebody.  I  never  feel  the  pleasure  of  hav- 
ing handsome  things  so  much  as  when  I  see  they 
raise  curiosity  :  and  I  enjoy  the  envy  of  others  as  a 
fresh  evidence  of  my  own  prosperity.  But  as  to 
yourself    to  be  sure,   you  best  know  what  you  can 


256  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

afford  :  and  indeed  there  is  some  difference  between 
your  daughters  and  the  miss  Bragwells. 

Worthy.  For  my  part,  before  1  engage  in  any  ex- 
pense, I  always  ask  myself  these  two  short  questions  ; 
First,  £an  I  afford  it  ? — Secondly,  is  it  proper  for  me  ? 

BragwelL  Do  you  so  ?  Now  I  own  I  ask  myself 
but  one  ;  fo*r  if  I  find  I  can  afford  it,  I  take  care  to 
make  it  proper  for  me.  If  I  can  pay  for  a  thing,  no 
one  has  a  right  to  hinder  me  from  having  it. 

Worthy.  Certainly  ;  but  a  man's  own  prudence,  his 
love  of  propriety  and  sense  of  duty,  ought  to  prevent 
bim  from  doing  an  improper  thing,  as  effectually 
as  if  there  were  somebody  to  hinder  him. 

BragwelL  Now,  I  think  a  man  is  a  fool  who  is  hin- 
dered from  having  any  thing  he  has  a  mind  to  ;  un- 
less, indeed,  he  is  in  want  of  money  to  pay  for  it.  I 
am  no  friend  to  debt.     A  poor  man  must  want  on. 

Worthy.  But  I  hope  my  children  have  learnt  not  to 
want  any  thing  which  is  not  proper  for  them.  They 
are  very  industrious;  they  attend  to  business  all  day,  and 
in  the  evening  they  sit  down  to  their  work  and  a  good 
book.  I  take  care  that  neither  their  readingnpr  con- 
versation shail  excite  any  desires  or  tastes  unsuitable 
to  their  condition.  They  have  little  vanity,  because 
the  kind  of  knowledge  they  have  is  of  too  sober  a 
sort  to  raise  admiration  ;  and  from  that  vanity  which 
attends  a  little  smattering  of  frivolous  accomplish- 
ment*, 1  have  secured  them,  by  keeping  them  in 
total  ignorance  of  all  such.  I  think  they  live  in  the 
fear  of  God.  1  trust  they  are  humble  and  pious,  and 
I  am  sure  they  seem  cheerful  and  happy.  If  I  am 
cick,  it  is  pleasant  to  see  them  dispute  which  shall 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  257 

wait  upon  me  ;  for  they  say  the  maid  cannot  do  it 
so  tenderly  as  themseiv  es. 

BragwelL  But  my  girls  are  too  smart  to  make 
mopes  of,  that  is  the  truth.  Though  ours  is  such 
a  lonely  village,  it  is  wonderful  to  see  how  soon 
they  get  the  fashions.  What  with  the  descriptions 
in  the  magazines,  and  the  pictures  in  the  pocket- 
books,  they  have  them  in  a  twinkling,  and  out-do 
their  patterns  ail  to  nothing.  I  used  to  take  in  the 
Country  Journal,  because  it  was  useful  enough  to 
see  how  oats  went,  the  time  of  high  water,  and  the 
price  of  stocks.  But  when  my  ladies  came  home, 
forsooth,  I  was  soon  wheedled  out  of  that,  and  forced 
to  take  a  London  paper,  that  tells  a  deal  about  caps 
and  feathers  and  all  the  trumpery  of  the  quality,  and 
the  French  dress  and  the  French  undress.  When  I 
want  to  know  what  hops  are  a  bag,  they  are  snatch- 
ing the  paper  to  see  what  violet  soap  is  a  pound. 
And  as  to  the  dairy,  they  never  care  how  cow's 
milk  goes,  as  long  as  they  can  get  some  stuiT  which 
they  call  milk  of  roses.  Seeing  them  disputing  vi- 
olently the  other  day  about  cream  and  butter,  I 
thought  it  a  sign  they  were  beginning  to  care  for 
the  farm,  till  I  found  it  was  cold  cream  for  the  hands, 
and  jessamine  butter  for  the  hair. 

Worthy.  But  do  your  daughters  never  read  ? 

BragwelL  Read  !  I  believe  they  do  too.  Why  our 
Jack  the  plough-boy,  spends  half  his  time  ingoing  to 
a  shop  in  our  market  town,  where  they  let  out  books 
to  read  with  marble  covers.  And  they  sell  paper 
with  all  manner  of  colors,  on  the  edges,  and  gim- 
cracks,  and  powder-puffs,  and  wash-balls,  and  cards 
X  2 


J5b  ihe  christian  ora*or. 

without  any  pips,  and  every  thing  in  the  world  that's 
genteel  and  of  no  use.  'Twas  but  the  other  day  I 
met  Jack  with  a  basket  full  of  these  books ;  so  hav- 
ing some  time  to  spare,  I  sat  down  to  see  a  little 
what  they  were  about. 

Worthy.  Well,  I  hope  you  there  found  what  was 
likely  to  improve  your  daughters,  and  teach  them  the 
true  use  of  time. 

Bragwell.  O,  as  to  that,  you  are  pretty  much  out. 
I  could  make  neither  head  nor  tail  of  it :  it  was  neith- 
er fish,  flesh,  nor  good  red-herring:  it  was  all  about 
my  lord,  and  sir  Harry,  and  the  captain.  But  I  nev- 
er met  with  such  nonsensical  fellows  in  my  life. 
Their  talk  was  no  more  like  that  of  my  old  landlord, 
who  was  a  lord  you  know,  nor  the  captain  of  our  fen- 
cibles,  than  chalk  is  like  cheese.  I  was  fairly  taken 
in  at  first,  and  began  to  think  I  had  got  hold  of  a  god- 
ly book  ;  for  there  was  a  deal  about  hope  and  despair, 
and  death,  and  heaven,  and  angels  and  torments,  and 
everlasting  happiness.  But  pvhen  I  got  a  little  on,  I 
found  there  was  no  meaning  in  all  these  words,  or  if 
any,  it  was  a  bad  meaning.  Eternal  misery,  perhaps, 
only  meant  a  moment's  disappointment  about  a  bit  of 
a  letter ;  and  everlasting  happiness  meant  two  people, 
talking  nonsense  together  for  five  minutes.  In  shortr 
I  never  met  with  such  a  pack  of  lies.  The  people 
talk  such  wild  gibberish  as  no  folks  in  their  sober 
senses  ever  did  talk ;  and  the  things  that  happen  to 
them  are  not  like  the  things  that  ever  happen  to  me 
or  any  of  my  acquaintance.  They  are  at  home  one 
minute,  and  beyond  sea  the  next :  beggars  to-day,  and 
lords  to-morrow  •  waiting  maids  in  the  morning)  and 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  259 

dutchesses  at  night.  Nothing  happens  in  a  natural 
gradual  way,  as  it  does  at  home  ;  they  grow  rich  by 
the  stroke  of  a  wand,  and  poor  by  the  magic  of  a  word  j 
the  disinherited  orphan  of  this  hour  is  the  overgrown 
heir  of  the  next :  now  a  bride  and  bridegroom  turn 
out  to  be  brother  and  sister,  and  the  brother  and  sis- 
ter prove  to  be  no  relations  at  all.  You  and  I,  master 
Worthy,  have  worked  hard  many  years,  and  think  it 
very  well  to  have  scraped  a  trifle  of  money  together ; 
you  a  few  hundreds  I  suppose,  and  I  a  few  thousands. 
But  one  would  think  every  man  in  these  books  had  the 
bank  of  England  in  his  'scrutore.  Then  there  is  an- 
other thing  which  I  never  met  with  in  true  life.  We 
think  it  pretty  well,  you  know,  if  one  has  got  one 
thing,  and  another  has  got  another.  I  will  tell  you 
how  I  mean.  You  are  reckoned  sensible,  our  parson 
is  learned,  the  squire  is  rich,  1  am  rather  generous, 
one  of  your  daughters  is  pretty,  and  both  mine  are 
genteel.  But  in  these  books  (except  here  and  there 
one,  whom  they  make  worse  than  Satan  himself)  ev- 
ery man  and  woman's  child  of  them,  are  all  wise,  and 
witty,  and  generous,  and  rich,  and  handsome,  and 
genteel ;  and  all  to  the  last  degree,  Nobody  is  mid- 
dling, or  good  in  one  thing,  and  bad  in  another,  like 
my  live  acquaintance ;  but  it  is  all  up  to  the  skies,  or 
down  to  the  dirt.  I  had  rather  read  Tom  Hicka- 
thrift,  or  Jack  the  Giant  Killer,  a  thousand  times. 

Worthy.  You  have  found  out,  Mr.  Bragwell,  that 
many  of  these  books  are  ridiculous  ;  1  will  go  farther 
and  say,  that  to  me  they  appear  wickeu  also  :  and  I 
should  account  the  reading  of  them  a  great  mischief, 
especially  to  people  in  middling  and  low  life,  if  I  oe~ 


260  THE     CHRISTIAN     ORA'IOR. 

}y  took  into  the  account  the  great  loss  of  time  such 
reading  causes,  and  the  aversion  it  leaves  behind  for 
what  is  more  serious  and  solid.  But  this,  though  a  bad 
part,  is  not  the  worst.  These  books  give  false  views 
o{  human  life.  They  teach  a  contempt  for  humble 
and  domestic  duties  ;  for  industry,  frugality  and  re- 
tirement. Want  of  youth  and  beauty  is  considered  in 
them  as  ridiculous.  Plain  people,  like  you  and  me, 
?>re  objects  of  contempt.  Parental  authority  is  set  at 
nought.  Nay.  plots  and  contrivances  against  parents 
and  guardians,  fill  half  the  volumes.  They  consider 
Jove  as  the  great  business  of  human  life,  and  even 
teach  that  it  is  impossible  for  this  love  to  be  regulat- 
ed or  restrained;  and  to  the  indulgence  of  this  pas- 
sion every  duty  is  therefore  sacrificed.  A  country 
life,  with  a  kind  mother  or  a  sober  aunt,  is  described 
as  a  state  of  intolerable  misery :  and  one  wrould  be 
apt  to  fancy  from  their  painting,  that  a  good  country 
house  is  a  prison,  and  a  worthy  father  the  gaoler. 
Now  tell  me,  do  not  you  think  these  wild  books  will 
hurt  your  daughters  ? 

Bragwell.  Why  1  do  think  they  are  grown  full  of 
schemes,  and  contrivances,  and  whispers,  that's  the 
truth  on't.  Every  thing  is  a  secret.  They  always  seem 
to  be  on  the  look-out  for  something,  and  when  nothing 
comes  on't,  then  they  are  sulky  and  disappointed. 
They  will  not  keep  company  with  their  equals  :  they 
will  hardly  sit  down  with  a  substantial  country  dealer. 
But  if  they  hear  of  a  recruiting  party  in  our  market- 
town,  on  goes  the  finery — of!  they  are.  Some  flimsy 
excuse  is  patched  up.  They  want  something  at  the 
book-shop  or  the  milliner's;  because  I  suppose  there 


THE    CHRXSTIA-N    ORATOR.  261 

haoce  sofhe  ensign  may  be  there  buying  stick- 
ing-plaister.  In  short,  1  do  grow  a  little  uneasy  ;  for 
i  should  not  like  to  see  all  I  have  saved  thrown  away 
on  a  knapsack. 


ON    riAiE    DUTY    OF    CARRYING    RELIGION    INTO    OUR    COM- 
MON   BUSINESS. 

\  Dialogue  between  a  Shoemaker  and  his  Apprentice. 

Will.  How  comfortably  we  live  now,  master,  to 
what  we  used  to  do  in  William's  time  !  1  used  then 
never  to  be  happy  but  when  we  were  keeping  it  up 
all  night,  but  now  I  am  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long. 
I  find  I  am  twice  as  happy  since  I  am  grown  good 
and  sober. 

Stock.  I  am  glad  you  are  happy,  Will,  and  I  rejoice 
that  you  are  sober ;  but  I  would  not  have  you  take 
too  much  pride  in  your  own  goodness^  for  fear  it  should 
become  a  sin,  almost  as  great  as  some  of  those  you 
have  left  off.  Besides,  I  would  not  have  you  make 
quite  so  sure  that  you  are  good. 

Will  Not  good,  master  !  why  don't  you  find  me 
regular  and  orderly  at  work ! 

Stock.  Very  much  so ;  and  accordingly  I  have  a 
great  respect  for  you. 

Will.  I  pay  every  one  his  own,  seldom  miss  church, 
have  not  been  drunk  since  Williams  died,  have  hand- 
some clothes  for  Sundays,  and  save  a  trifle  every 
week. 

Stock.  All  these  things  are  very  right  as  far  as  they 
go,  and  you  could  not  well  be  a  Christian  without  do- 
ing them.     But  I  shall  make  you  stare,  perhaps,  when 


262  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

I  tell  you,  you  may  do  all  these  things,  and  many 
more,  and  yet  be  no  Christian. 

Will.  No  Christian  !  surely,  master,  I  do  hope  that 
after  all  I  have  done,  you  will  not  be  so  unkind 
as  to  say  I  am  no  Christian. 

Stock.  God  forbid  that  I  should  say  so,  Will.  1  hope 
better  things  of  you.  But  come  now,  what  do  you 
think  it  is  to  be  a  Christian  ? 

Will.  What !  why  to  be  christened  when  one  is  a 
child ;  to  learn  the  catechism  when  one  can  read  ;  to 
be  confirmed  when  one  is  a  youth  ;  and  to  go  to 
church  when  one  is  a  man. 

Stock.  These  are  all  very  proper  things,  and  quite 
necessary.  They  make  part  of  a  Christian's  life. 
But  for  all  that,  a  man  may  be  exact  in  them  all,  and 
yet  not  be  a  Christian. 

Will.  Why  sure,  master,  you  won't  be  so  unreason- 
able as  to  want  a  body  to  be  religious  always  ?  I  can't 
do  that  neither.  I'm  not  such  a  hypocrite  as  to  pre- 
tend to  it. 

Stock.  Yes,  you  can  be  so  in  every  action  of  your 
life! 

Will.  What,  master,  always  to  be  thinking  about 
religion  ? 

Stock.  No,  far  from  it,  Will ;  much  less  to  be  al- 
ways talking  about  it.  But  you  must  be  always  act- 
ing under  its  power  and  spirit. 

Will  But  surely  'tis  pretty  well  if  I  do  this  when 
I  go  to  church  ;  or  while  I  am  saying  my  prayers. 
Even  you,  master,  as  strict  as  you  are,  wouid  not 
have  me  always  on  my  knees,  nor  always  at  church, 
I  suppose  ;  for  (hen  how  would-  your  work  be  cam 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  263 

ed  on,  and  how  would  our  town  be   supplied  with 
shoes  ? 

Stock.  Very  true  ;  Will.  'Twould  be  no  proof  of 
our  religion  to  let  our  customers  go  barefoot ;  but 
?twould  be  a  proof  of  our  laziness,  and  we  should 
starve,  as  we  ought  to  do.  The  business  of  the  world 
must  not  only  be  carried  on,  but  carried  on  with  spirit 
and  activity.  We  have  the  same  authority  for  not 
being  slothful  in  business,  as  we  have  for  being  fervent 
in  spirit.  But  still,  a  Christian  does  not  carry  on  his 
common  trade  quite  like  another  man  neither ;  for 
something  of  the  spirit  which  he  labors  to  attain  at 
church,  he  carries  with  him  into  his  worldly  con- 
cerns. 

Will  Why,  master,  I  do  think,  if  God  Almighty  is 
contented  with  one  day  in  seven,  he  won't  thank  you 
for  throwing  him  the  other  six  into  the  bargain.  I 
thought  he  gave  us  them  for  our  own  use  ;  and  I  am 
sure  nobody  works  harder  all  the  week  than  you  do. 

Stock.  God,  it  is  true,  sets  apart  one  day  in  seven 
for  actual  rest  from  labor,  and  for  more  immediate 
devotion  to  his  service.  But  sh^w  me  that  text 
wherein  he  says,  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
on  Sundays — Thou  shalt  keep  my  commandments  on 
the  Sabbath  day — To  be  carnally  minded  on  Sundays, 
is  death — Cease  to  do  evil,  and  learn  to  do  well  one 
day  in  seven — Grow  in  grace  on  the  Lord}s  day — Is 
there  any  such  text  ? 

Will.  No,  to  be  sure  thece  is  not ;  for  that  would 
be  encouraging  sin  on  all  the  other  days. 

Stock.  Yes,  just  as  you  do  when  you  make  religion 
a  thing  for  the  church,  and  not  for  the  world.     There 


204  THE     CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

is  no  one  lawful  calling,,  in  pursuing  which  we  ma) 
not  serve  God  acceptably.  You  and  1  may  serve  him 
while  we  are  stitching  jhis  pair  of  boots.  Farmer 
Furrow,  while  he  is  plowing  yonder  field.  Betsy 
West,  over  the  way,  whilst  she  is  nursing  her 
sick  mother.  Neighbor  Incle,  in  measuring  out 
his  tapes  and  ribands.  I  say,  all  these  may  serve 
God  just  as  acceptably  in  those  employments  as  at 
church,  I  had  almost  said  more  so. 

Will.  Well,  I  own  I  don't  ^tftt  see  how  I  am  to  be 
religious  when  I  am  hard  at  woi*k,  or  busy  settlings  an 
account.  I  can't  do  two  things  at  once  ;  'tis  as  if  I 
were  to  pretend  to  make  a  shoe  and  cut  out  a  boot  at 
the  same  moment. 

Stock.  1  tell  you  both  must  subsist  together.  Nay 
the  one  must  be  the  motive  to  the  other*  God  com- 
mands us  to  be  industrious,  and  if  we  love  him,  the 
desire  of  pleasing  him  should  be  the  main  spring  of 
our  industry. 

Will.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  always  be  thinking 
.About  pleasing  God. 

Stock.  Suppose,  now,  a  man  had  a  wife  and  child- 
ren whom  he  loved,  and  wished  to  serve  ;  would  not 
he  be  often  thinking  about  them  while  he  was  at 
work?  and  though  he  would  not  be  always  thinking 
nor  always  talking  about  them,  yet  would  not  the 
very  love  he  bore  them  be  a  constant  spur  to  his 
industry  ?  He  would  always  be  pursuing  the  same 
course  from  the  same  motive,  though  his  words  and 
even  his  thoughts  must  often  be  taken  up  in  the  com- 
mon transactions  of  life. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  265 

Will  I  say  first  one,  then  the  other ;  now  for  la- 
bor, now  for  religion. 

Stock.  I  will  show  that  both  must  go  together.  I  will 
sujfpose  you  were  going  to  buy  so  many  skins  of  our 
currier — that  is  quite  a  worldly  transaction — you  can't 
see  what  a  spirit  of  religion  has  to  do  with  buying  a 
few  calves'  skins.  Now,  I  tell  you  it  has  a  great  deal 
to  do  with  it.  Covetousness,  a  desire  to  make  a  good 
bargain,  may  rise  up  in  your  heart.  Selfishness,  a  spirit 
of  monopoly,  a  wish  to  get  all,  in  order  to  distress 
others  ;  these  are  evil  desires,  and  must  be  subdued. 
Some  opportunity  of  unfair  gain  offers,  in  which  there 
may  be  much  sin,  and  yet  little  scandal.  Here  a 
Christian  will  stop  short ;  he  will  recollect,  That  he 
~vho  maketh  haste  to  be  rich  shall  hardly  be  innocent. 
Perhaps  the  sin  may  be  on  the  side  of  your  dealer — 
he  may  want  to  overreach  you — this  is  provoking— 
you  are  tempted  to  violent  anger,  perhaps  to  swear; 
here  is  a  fresh  demand  on  you  for  a  spirit  of  patience 
and  moderation,  as  there  was  before  for  a  spirit  of 
justice  and  self-denial.  If,  by  God's  grace,  you  get 
the  victory  over  these  temptations,  you  are  the  bet- 
ter man  for  having  been  called  out  to  them  ;  always 
provided,  that  the  temptations  be  not  of  your  own 
seeking. 

Will.  Well,  master,  you  have  a  comical  way,  some- 
how, of  coming  over  one.  I  never  should  have 
thought  there  would  have  been  any  religion  wanted 
in  buying  and  selling  a  few  calves'  skins.  But,  I  be- 
gin to  see  there  is  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say.  And, 
whenever  I  am  doing  a  common  action,  I  will  try  to  re- 
member that  it  must  be  done  after  a  godly  sorU 


^66  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

DANIEL    IN    THE    LIONS*    DEN. 

Scene — The  court  of  the  palace. — The  sun  rising. 

DARIUS,    ARASPES. 

Dar.  Oh,  good  Araspes  !  what  a  night  of  horror ! 
To  me  the  dawning  day  brings  no  return 
Of  cheerfulness  or  peace  !  No  balmy  sleep 
Has  seal'd  these  eyes,  no  nourishment  has  past 
These  loathing  lips,  since  Daniel's  fate  was  sign'd  ! 
Hear  what  my  fruitless  penitence  resolves — 
That  thirty  days  my  rashness  had  decreed 
The  edict's  force  should  last,  I  will  devote 
To  mourning  and  repentance,  fasting,  pray'r, 
And  all  due  rites  of  grief.     For  thirty  days 
No  pleasant  sound  of  dulcimer  or  harp, 
Sackbut  or  flute  or  psaltery,  shall  charm 
My  ear,  now  dead  to  ev'ry  note  of  joy ! 

Aras.  My  grief  can  know  no  period  ! 

Dar.  See  that  den  ! 

There  Daniel  met  the  furious  lions'  rage ! 
There  were  the  patient  martyr's  mangled  limbs 
Torn  piece-meal !  Never  hide  thy  tears,  Araspes  ; 
rTis  virtuous  sorrow,  unallay'd,  like  mine, 
By  guilt  and  fell  remorse  !  Let  us  approach : 
Who  knows  but  that  dread  Pow'r  to  whom  he  pray'd 
So  often  and  so  fervently,  has  heard  him ! 

[He  goes  to  the  mouth  of  the  den. 
O,  Daniel,  servant  of  the  living  God  ! 
He  whom  thou  hast  serv'd  so  long,  and  lov'd  so  well 
From  the  devouring  lions'  famish'd  jaw, 
Can  he  deliver  thee  ! 

Dan.   (from  the  bottom  of  the  dfen.)  He  can — he  has  ! 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  267 

Dar.  Methought  I  heard  him  speak  ! 

Aras.  O,  wond'rous  force 

Of  strong  imagination  i   were  thy  voice 
Loud  as  the  trumpet's  blast,  it  could  not  wake  him 
From  that  eternal  sleep  ! 

Dan.   (in  the  den.)         Hail,  king  Darius  ! 
The  God  I  serve  has  shut  the  lions'  mouth. 
To  vindicate  my  innocence, 

Dar.  He  speaks ! 

He  lives ! 
.  Aras.  'Tis  no  illusion  :  'tis  the  sound 
Of  his  known  voice. 

Dar.  Where  are  my  servants  ?  Haste, 

Fly,  swift  as  lightning,  free  him  from  the  den ; 
Release  him,  bring  him  hither !  Break  the  seal 
Which  keeps  him  from  me  ! — See,  Araspes !  look  ! 
See  the  charm'd  lions  ! — Mark  their  mild  demeanor  : 
Araspes,  mark  ! — they  have  no  pow'r  to  hurt  him! 
See  how  they  hang  their  heads  and  smooth  their 

fierceness 
At  his  mild  aspect  ! 

Aras.  Who  that  sees  this  sight, 

Who  that  in  after-times  shall  hear  this  told, 
Can  doubt  if  Daniel's  God  be  God  indeed  ? 

Dar.  None,  none,  Araspes  ! 

Aras.  Ah,  he  comes,  he  comes  I 

Enter  Daniel  followed  by  multitudes. 
Dan.  Hail,  great  Darius  ! 

Dar.  Dost  thou  live  indeed  ! 

And  live  unhurt? 

Aras,  0,  miracle  of  joy  ! 


268  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Dar.  I  scarce  can  trust  my  eyes!    How  didst  thou 
'scape  ?  nPA] 

Dan.    That  bright  and  glorious  Being,  who  to 
Presence  divine,  when  the  three  martyr'd  brothers 
Essay -d  the  caldron's  flame,  supported  me  ! 
E'en  in  the  furious  lions'  dreadful  den, 
The  prisoner  of  hope,  even  there  1  turn'd 
To  the  strong  hold,  the  bulwark  of  my  strength, 
Ready  to  hear,  and  mighty  to  redeem  ! 

Dar.     (to  Aras.)    Where   is  Pharnaces  ?  Take  the 
hoary  traitor! 
Take  too  Soranus,  and  the  chief  abettors 
Of  this  dire  edict :  let  not  one  escape. 
The  punishment  their  deep-laid  hate  devis'd 
For  holy  Daniel,  on  their  heads  shall  fall 
With  tenfold  vengence.     To  the  lions'  den 
I  doom  his  vile  accusers  !  All  their  wives, 
Their  children,  too,  shall  share  one  common  fate  ! 
Take  care  that  none  escape. — Go,  g<Jod  Araspes. 

[Araspes  goes  ent< 

Dan.  Not  so,  Darius  ! 

O  spare  the  guiltless  ;  spare  the  guilty  too  ! 
Where  sin  is  not,  to  punish  were  unjust  ; 
And  where  sin  is,  O  king,  there  fell  remorse 
Supplies  the  place  of  punishment ! 

Dar.  No  more  ! 

My  word  is  past !  Not  one  request,  save  thisx 
Shalt  thou  e'er  make  in  vain.     Approach,  my  friends : 
Araspes  has  already  spread  the  tale, 
And  see  what  crowds  advance  ! 

Pco.  Long  live  Darius  ! 

Long  live  great  Daniel  too,  the  people's  friead  ! 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  269 

Bar,  Draw  near,  my  subjects.     See  this  holy  man ! 
Death  had  no  power  to  harm  him.     Yon  fell  band 
Of  famish'd  lions,  soften'd  at  his  sight, 
Forgot  their  nature,  and  grew  tame  before  him. 
The  mighty  God  protects  his  servants  thus  I 
The  righteous  thus  he  rescues  from  the  snare  ! 
While  Fraud's  artificer  himself  shall  fall 
In  the  deep  gulf  his  wily  arts  devise 
To  snare  the  innocent ! 

A  courtier.  To  the  same  den 

Araspes  bears  Pharnaces  and  his  friends  : 
Fallen  is  their  insolence  !  With  prayers  and  tears 
And  all  the  meanness  of  high-crested  pride, 
When  adverse  fortune  frowns,  they  beg  for  life. 
Araspes  will  not  hear.      "  You  heard  not  me," 
He  cries,  "  when  I  for  Daniel's  life  implor'd ; 
His  God  protected  him !  see  now  if  yours 
Will  listen  to  your  cries  !" 

Dar.  Now  hear, 

People  and  nations,  languages  and  realms, 
O'er  whom  I  rule  !  Peace  be  within  your  walls  I 
That  I  may  banish  from  the  minds  of  men 
The  rash  decree  gone  out ;  hear  me  resolve 
To  counteract  its  force  by  one  more  just. 
In  ev'ry  kingdom  of  my  wide-stretch'd  realm, 
From  fair  Chaldea  to  th'  extremest  bound 
Of  northern  Media,  be  my  edict  sent, 
And  this  my  statute  known.     My  heralds  haste, 
And  spread  my  royal  mandate  through  the  land, 
That  all  my  subjects  bow  the  ready  knee 
To  Daniel's  God — for  he  alone  is  Lord. 
Let  all  adore,  and  tremble  at  his  name, 

y  2 


270  TH£    CHRISTIAN    ORAii 

Who  sits  in  glory  unapproachable 

Above  the  heavens — above  the  heaven  of  heavens . 

His  pow'r  is  everlasting;  and  his  throne, 

Founded  in  equity  and  truth,  shall  last 

Beyond  the  bounded  reign  of  time  and  space, 

Through  wide  eternity!  With  his  right  arm 

He  saves,  and  who  opposes?  He  defends, 

And  who  shall  injure  ?  In  the  perilous  den 

He  rescuM  Daniel  from  the  lions'  mouth ; 

His  common  deeds  are  wonders  ;   all  his  works 

One  ever-during  chain  of  miracles  ! 

Enter  Araspes. 

Aras.  All  hail,  O  king !  Darius,  live  forever  ! 
May  all  thy  foes  be  as  Pharnaces  is  ! 

Bar.  Araspes,  speak  ! 

Aras.  O,  let  me  spare  the  tale  !- 

5Tis  full  of  horror  !  Dreadful  was  the  sight ! 
The  hungry  lions,  greedy  for  their  prey, 
Devourd  the  wretched  princes  ere  they  reach'd 
The  bottom  of  the  den. 

Bar.  Now,  now  confess, 

'Twas  some  Superior  Hand  restrain'd  their  rage, 
And  tam'd  their  furious  appetites. 

People.  'Tis  true. 

The  God  of  Daniel  is  a  mighty  God  ! 
He  saves  and  He  destroys. 

Aras.  O,  friend  !  O,  Daniel ! 

No  wav'ring  doubts  can  ever  more  disturb 
My  settled  faith. 
'      Dan.  To  God  be  all  the  glory  ! 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  '2.1* 

DIONYSIUS,    PYTHIAS,    AND    DAMON. 

Genuine  Virtue  commands  Respect,  even  from  the  bad. 

Dionysius.  Amazing  !  What  do  I  see  ?  It  is  Pythias 
just  arrived. — It  is  indeed  Pythias.  I  did  not  think  it 
possible.  He  is  come  to  die,  and  to  redeem  his 
friend  ! 

Pythias,  Yes,  it  is  Pythias.  I  left  the  place  of  my 
confinement,  with  no  other  views,  than  to  pay  to 
Heaven  the  vows  I  had  made  ;  to  settle  my  family 
concerns  according  to  the  rules  of  justice  ;  and  to  bid 
adieu  to  my  children,  that  I  might  die  tranquil  and 
satisfied. 

Dio.  But  why  dost  thou  return  ?  Hast  thou  no  fear 
of  death  ?  Is  it  not  the  character  of  a  madman,  to 
seek  it  thus  voluntarily  ? 

Pyth.  I  return  to  suffer,  though  I  have  not  deserv- 
ed death.  Every  principle  of  honor  and  goodness, 
forbids   me  to  allow  my  friend  to  die  for- me. 

Dio*  Dost  thou,  then,  love  him  better  than  thy- 
self? 

Pyth.  No  ;  1  love  him  as  myself.  But  I  am  per- 
suaded that  I  ought  to  suffer  death,  rather  than  my 
friend  ;  since  it  was  me  whom  thou  hadst  decreed  to 
die.  It  were  not  just  that  he  should  suffer,  to  deliv- 
er me  from  the  death  which  was  designed,  not  for 
him,  but  for  me  only. 

Dio.  But  thou  supposest,  that  it  is  as  unjust  to  in- 
flict death  upon  thee,  as  upon  thy  friend. 

Py  Very  true;  we  are  both  entirely  innocent: 
and  it  is  equally  unjust  to  make  either  of  us  suffer, 


272  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Dio.  Why  dost  thou   then   assert,  that  it  were  in 
justice  to  put  him  to  death,   instead  of  thee  ? 

Py.  It  is  unjust,  in  the  same  degree,  to  inflict  death 
either  on  Damon  or  on  myself;  but  Pythias  were 
highly  culpable  to  let  Damon  suffer  that  death,  which 
the  tyrant  had  prepared  for  Pythias  only. 

Dio.  Dost  thou  then  return  hither,  on  the  day  ap- 
pointed, with  no  other  view,  than  to  save  the  life  of 
a  friend,  by  losing  thy  own  ? 

Py.  I  return,  in  regard  to  thee,  to  suffer  an  act  of 
injustice  which  is  common  for  tyrants  to  inflict ;  and 
with  respect  to  Damon,  to  perform  my  dnty,  by  res- 
cuing him  from  the  danger  he  incurred  by  his  generos- 
ity to  me. 

Dio.  And  now,  Damon,  let  me  address  myself  to 
thee.  Didst  thou  not  really  fear,  that  Pythias  would 
never  return  ;  and  that  thou  wouldst  be  put  to  death 
on  his  account  ? 

Da,  I  was  but  too  well  assured,  that  Pythias  would 
punctually  return ;  and  that  he  would  be  more  solic- 
itous to  ke?p  his  promise,  than  to  preserve  his  life. 
Would  to  heaven,  that  his  relations  and  friends  had 
forcibly  detained  him  I  He  would  then  have  lived  for 
the  comfort  and  benefit  of  good  men  ;  and  I  should 
have  the  satisfaction  of  dying  for  him  ! 

Dio.  What !  Does  life  displease  thee  ? 

Da.  Yes  ;  it  displeases  me  when  I  see  and  feel 
the  power  of  a  tyrant. 

Dio.  It  is  well  !  Thou  shalt  see  him  no  more.  I 
will  order  thee  to  be  put  to  death  immediately. 

Py.  Pardon  the  feelings  of  a  man  who  sympathises 
with  his  dying  friend.     But  remember  it  was  Pythias 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  273 

who  was  devoted  by  thee  to  destruction.  I  come  to 
submit  to  it,  that  I  may  redeem  my  friend.  Do  not 
refuse  me  this  consolation  in  my  last  hour. 

Dio.  I  cannot  endure  men,  who  despise  death,  and 
set  my  power  at  defiance. 

Da.  Thou  canst  not,  then,  endure  virtue. 

Dio.  No :  I  cannot  endure  that  proud,  disdainful 
virtue,  which  contemns  life  ;  which  dreads  no  punish- 
ment ;  and  which  is  insensible  to  the  charms  of  rich- 
es and  pleasure. 

Da.  Thou  seest,  howTever,  that  it  is  a  virtue, 
which  is  not  insensible  to  the  dictates  of  honor,  jus- 
tice, and  friendship. 

Dio.  Guards,  take  Pythias  to  execution.  We  shall 
see  whether  Damon  will  continue  to  despise  my 
authority.  % 

Da.  Pythias,  by  returning  to  submit  himself  to, 
thy  pleasure,  has  merited  his  life,  and  deserved  thy 
favor  ;  but  I  have  excited  thy  indignation,  by  resign- 
ing myself  to  thy  power,  in  order  to  save  him  :  be 
satisfied,  then,  with  this  sacrifice,  and  put  me  to  death. 

Py.  Hold,  Dionysius  !  remember  it  was  Pythias 
alone  who  offended  thee  :  Damon  could  not. 

Dio.  Alas !  what  do  I  see  and  hear  !  where  am  1  ? 
How  miserable  ;  and  how  worthy  to  be  so  !  I  have 
hitherto  known  nothing  of  true  virtue.  I  have  spent 
my  life  in  darkness  and  error.  All  my  power  and 
honors  are  insufficient  to  produce  love.  1  cannot 
boast  of  having  acquired  a  single  friend,  in  the  course 
of  a  reign  of  thirty  years.  And  yet  these  two  per- 
sons in  a  private  condition,  love  one  another  tender- 
ly, unreservedly  confide  in  each  other,  are  mutually 


274  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

happy,  and  ready   to  die  for  each  other's  preeerra- 
tion. 

Py.  How  ceuldst  thou,  who  hast  never  loved  any 
person,  expect  to  have  friends  ?  If  thou  hadst  loved 
and  respected  men,  thou  wouldst  have  secured  their 
love  and  respect.  Thou  hast  feared  mankind :  and 
they  fear  thee  :  they  detest  thee. 

Dio.  Damon,  Pythias,  condescend  to  admit  me  as  a 
third  friend,  in  a  connection  so  perfect.  I  give  you 
your  lives  ;  and  I  will  load  you  with  riches. 

Da.  We  have  no  desire  to  be  enriched  by  thee  -} 
and  in  regard  to  thy  friendship,  we  cannot  accept  or 
ettjoy  it  till  thou  become  good  and  just.  Without 
these  qualities,  thou  canst  be  connected  with  none 
but  trembling  slaves,  and  base  flatterers.  To  be 
loved  and  esteemed  by  men  of  free  and  generous 
minds,  thou  must  be  virtuous,  affectionate,  disinter- 
ested, beneficent ;  and  know  how  to  live  in  a  sort 
of  equality  with  those  who  share  and  deserve  thy 
friendship. 

fenelon,  Archbishop  of  Cambray. 


THE    CHILDREN    WHO    WOULD    BE    THEIR    OWN    MASTERS. 

Camilhis.  Ah  !  Papa,  how  I  should  wish  to  be 
big  1  to  be  as  big  as  you  ! 

Mr.  Orpin.  And  why  should  you  wish  so,  my 
dear  ? 

Cam.  Because  then  I  should  not  be  under  any 
body's  command,  and  might  do  whatever  came  into 
my  head. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  275 

Mr.  Orpin.  I  suppose,  then,  you  would  do  wonders. 

Cam.  That  I  should,  I  promise  you. 

Mr.  Orpin.  And  do  you  wish  also,  Julia,  to  be  free 
to  do  whatever  you  please  ? 

Julia.  Yes  indeed,  papa. 

Cam.  Oh  !  if  Julia  and  I  were  our  own  masters! 

Mr.  Orpin.  Well,  children,  I  can  give  you  that  sat- 
isfaction. After  to-morrow  morning  you  shall  have 
the  liberty  of  conducting  yourselves  entirely  accord- 
ing to  your  own  fancy. 

Cam.  Ah  !  you  are  jesting,  papa. 

Mr.  Orpin.  No,  I  speak  quite  seriously.  To- 
morrow, neither  your  mother,  nor  I,  nor  in  short 
any  body  in  the  house,  shall  oppose  your  inclinations. 

Cam.  What  pleasure  shall  we  not  feel,  to  have 
our  necks  out  of  the  yoke  ! 

Mr.  Orpin.  That  is  not  all.  I  do  not  intend  to 
give  you  this  privilege  for  to-morrow  only  :  it  shall 
continue  until  you  come  of  yourselves,  and  request 
me  to  assume  my  authority  again. 

Cam.  At  that  rate,  we  shall  be  our  own  masters 
a  long  while. 

Mr.  Orpin.  Well,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  able 
to  conduct  yourselves  ;  so  prepare  to  become  great 
folks  to-morrow. 

The  next  day  came.  The  two  children,  instead 
of  rising  at  seven  o'clock  as  usual,  lay  in  bed  till  near 
nine.  Too  much  sleep  makes  us  heavy  and  listless, 
This  was  the  case  with  Camillus  and  Julia.  They 
awoke  at  length  uncalled,  and  got  up  in  an  ill-hu- 
mor. However,  they  pleased  themselves  a  little 
with  the  agreeable  idea  of  acting  in  whatever  man- 


276  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

ner  they  liked  the  whole  day.     Come,  what  shall  we 
do   first  ?    said  Camilius  to  his  sister,  after  they  had 
dressed  themselves  and  breakfasted. 
Julia.   Why,  we'll  go  and  play. 
Cam.  At  what  ? 

Julia.  Let  us  build  houses  with  cards. 
Cam.  Oh!  that  is  very  dull  amusement.    I  am  not  for 
that. 
Julia.  Will  you  play  at  blind  man's  buff  ? 
Cam.  What,  only  two  of  us  ? 
Julia.  Well,  at  draughts,  or  at  fox  and  geese. 
Cam.  You  know   I  cannot  bear  those  games  that 
oblige  one  to  sit  still. 

Julia.  Well,  then  mention  some  of  your  own  lik- 
ing. 

Cam.  Then  we'll  play  at  riding  on  a  stick. 
Julia.  Ay,  that  is  a  pretty  play  for  a  little  girl  ! 
Cam.  We'll  play  then,  if  you  like,  at  horses.     You 
-hall  be  the  horse,  and  I  will  be  coachman. 

Julia.  Oh,  yes  !  to  lash  me  with  your  whip,  as  you 
did  t'other  day.     I  have  not  forgot  that. 

Cam.  I  never  do  it  willingly  ;  but  the  thing  is,  you 
won't  gallop. 

Julia.  Ay,  but  that  hurts  me  :  so  I  won't  play  at 
any  such  game. 

Cam.  You  won't?  won't  you?  Well!  let  us  play 
at  hounds  and  hare.  I  will  be  the  huntsman,  and  you 
shall  be  the  hare.  Come,  make  ready  ;  I  shall  set 
off. 

Julia.  Pshaw  !  I'll  have  none  of  your  hunting. 
You  do  nothing  but  tread  upon  my  heels,  and  punch 
me  in  the  sides. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  277 

Cam.  Well,  since  you  do  not  choose  any  of  my 
gan^es,  I'll  never  play  with  you  again.  Do  you  hear 
that? 

Julia.  Nor  I  with  you.     Do  you  hear  that  too  ? 

At  these  wrords  they  quitted  the  middle  of  the  room, 
where  they  were  standing,  and  retired  each  into  a 
corner,  and  there  remained  a  considerable  time  with- 
out looking  at  or  speaking  to  each  other.  They 
were  still  in  a  pout,  when  the  clock  struck 
ten.  The  afternoon  would  soon  pass  over ;  there- 
fore Camillus  at  length  approaching  his  sister,  said, 
M  I  must  do  every  thing  that  you  like.  Well  then, 
I  will  play  at  draughts  with  you  for  twelve  chesnuts 
a  game." 

Julia.  I  have  no  chesnuts  ;  and  besides,  you  know 
you  owe  me  a  dozen  already.  You  should  pay  me 
those  first. 

Cam.  Yes,  I  owed  them  to  you  yesterday ;  but  I 
do  not  owe  any  thing  to-day. 

Julia.  And  pray  how  did  you  come  to  be  quit  ? 

Cam.  Nobody  has  a  right  to  ask  any  thing  of  those 
who  are  their  own  masters. 

Julia.  Very  well !  I  shall  tell  my  papa  of  your 
cheating. 

Cam.  But  papa  has  no  power  over  me  now, 

Julia .  If  that  be  the  case,  I  won't  play. 

Cam.  Then  you  may  do  as  you  like. 

They  go  away  pouting  again  to  the  farther  ends  of 
-  the  room  from  each  other.     Camillus  began  to  whis- 
tle,   Julia   to   sing.       Camillus    tied    knots    on    hit 
whip,  and  cracked  it :  Julia  dressed  her  doll,  and  be- 
gan a  conversation  with  it     Camillus  grumbled,  and 
Z 


U78  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Julia  sighed.  The  clock  struck  again.  They  had 
another  hour  left  to  play  in.  Camillus,  in  a  pet, 
threw  his  whip  out  of  the  window:  Julia  tossed  her 
doll  into  a  corner.  They  looked  at  each  other,  not 
knowing  what  to  say.  At  length  Julia  breaks  si- 
lence :  "  Come,  Camillus,  I  will  be  your  horse. v 

Cam.  There  now  that  is  right !  I  have  a  long 
string  for  the  bridle.  See  here.  Put  it  in  your 
mouth. 

Julia.  No,  not  in  my  mouth.  Tie  it  round  my 
waist,  or  fasten  it  to  my  arm. 

Cam.  How  you  talk !  Did  you  ever  see  horses 
have  the  bit  any  where  but  between  their  teeth? 

Julia.-  But  I  am  not  a  real  horse. 

Cam.  Well,  but  you  should  do  just  the  same  as  if 
you  were. 

Julia.  I  do  not  see  any  occasion  for  that. 

Cam.    I  suppose  you  think  that  you  know  more 
about  it  than  I  do,  who  am  all  the  day  in  the  stable. 
Come/take  it  the  right  way. 
-  Julia.    You  have  been  trailing  it  about  in  the  dirt 
all  the  week.     No,  Til  never  put  it  in  my  mouth. 

Cam.  Then  I  won?t  have  it  any  where  else.  I 
would  rather  not  play  at  all. 

Julia.  Just  as  you  like  ! 

1.  A  third  fit  of  pouting,  more  sullen  and  peevish 
than  before.  Camillus  goes  for  his  whip  :  Julia  takes 
up  her  doll.  But  the  whip  refuses  to  crack  :  the  doll'e 
dressing  goes  all  wrong.  Camillus  sighs,  Julia 
weeps.  This  interval  brought  on  dinner-hour;  and 
Mr.  Orpin  came  to  ask  them  if  they  chose  to  have  it 
served  up.      But  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  said 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  279 

he,  seeing  them  both  quite  dull.  Nothing,  papa,  an- 
swered the  children,  and,  wiping  their  eyes,  followed 
their  father  into  the  dining-room, 

2.  The  dinner  this  day  consisted  of  a  number  of 
dishes,  and  a  bottle  of  wine  was  opened  for  each  of 
the  children.  My  dear  Children,  said  Mr.  Orpin,  if 
I  had  still  my  former  authority  over  you,  I  would 
forbid  you  to  taste  all  those  dishes,  and  particularly 
to  drink  wine.  At  least,  I  would  desire  you  to  be 
very  sparing  of  them,  because  I  know  how  danger- 
ous wine  and  high-seasoned  food  are  to  children. 
But  ye  are  now  your  own  masters,  and  may  eat  and 
drink  whatever  you  fancy. 

3.  The  children  did  not  wait  to  be  told  this  twice. 
The  one  swallowed  great  bits  of  meat  without  bread  , 
the  other  took  sauce  ia  whole  spoonfuls  ;  and  they 
drank  full  bumpers  of  wine,  without  remembering  to 
mix  water  with  it.  My  dear,  whispered  Mrs.  Or- 
pin to  her  husband,  they  will  make  themselves  sick, 
I  fear  they  will,  my  dear,  answered  Mr.  Orpin  ;  but 
I  would  rather  they  should  learn  for  once,  at  their 
own  expense,  how  much  one  may  suffer  from  igno- 
rance, than  by  a  premature  attention  deprive  them 
&  the  fruits  of  so  important  a  lesson.  Mrs.  Orpin  saw 
her  husband's  intention,  and  therefore  suffered  our 
thoughtless  little  couple  to  indulge  their  greediness. 

4.  The  cloth  was  now  removed.  The  children 
had  stuffed  as  long  as  they  were  able,  and  their  little 
heads  began  to  be  heated.  Come  with  me,  Julia, 
cried  Camillas,  and  took  his  sister  with  him  into  the 
garden.  Mr.  Orpin  thought  proper  to  follow  them 
unobserved.     There  was  a  little  pond  in  the  garden, 


280  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORA1CK. 

and  at  the  edge  of  the  pond  a  small  boat.     Cainillus 
had  a  mind  to  go  into  it.     Julia  stopped   him.     You 
know,  said  she,  that  we   must  not  go  there, 
not  !    answered  Camillus.     Do  you  forget   that   we 
are  our  own  masters? 

5.  Oh!  that  is  true,  said  Julia:  so,  giving  her  hand 
to  her  brother,  they  both  went  into  the  boat.  Mr. 
Orpin  drew  nearer  to  them,  but  did  not  choose  to 
discover  himself  yet.  He  knew  that  the  pond  was 
not  deep.  Even  if  they  fall  in,  said  he  to  himself, 
I  6hall  net  have  much  trouble  in  getting  them  out. 
The  two  children  wished  to  disengage  the  boat  from 
the  bank,  and  pushed  it  out  towards  the  middle  of  the 
pond  ;  but  they  were  not  able  to  untie  the  knots  of 
the  rope  which  held  it  fast. 

6.  Since  we  cannot  sail,  said  the  giddy  Camillus, 
we  may  at  least  balance  ourselves.  So,  striding 
across  the  boat,  he  began  to  press  it  down,  first  on 
one  side,  then  on  the  other.  Their  heads  being  a 
little  dizzy,  it  was  not  long  before  their  legs  failed 
them.  They  laid  hold  of  each  other  to  support 
themselves,  and  fell  both  plump  upon  the  side  of  the 
boat  and  from  thence  into  the  water. 

7.  Mr.  Orpin  flew  like  lightning  from  the  pla<fe 
where  he  had  been  hid.  He  threw  himself  into  the 
water,  seized  his  rash  children  one  in  each  hand,  and 
brought  them  back  into  the  house,  half  dead  with 
terror.  They  felt  themselves  violently  sick,  while 
they  were  undressing  and  rubbing  with  cloths.  At 
length  they  were  put  each  in  a  warm  bed  :  they 
fell  alternately  into  a  stupor  and  convulsions  :  they 
complained  of  a  dreadful  head-ache  and  pains  in  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  281 

bowels,  were  seized  with  frequent  fainting  fits,  and 
in  the  intervals  with  shudderings,  sickness  of  the 
stomach,  and  difficulty  of  breathing. 

8.  In  this  deplorable  condition  they  passed  the 
rest  of  the  day  :  they  sobbed  and  wept,  till  at  length 
they  fell  asleep  through  weariness.  Early  the  next 
morning  their  father  entered  their  chamber,  and  ask- 
ed how  they  had  passed  the  night.  Very  ill,  answer- 
ed both,  in  a  feeble  voice  :  we  could  not  lie  easy  in 
bed,  and  feel  a  sickness  in  the  head  and  stomach  yet. 

9.  Poor  children,  how  I  pity  you  !  Bu,t,  added  he 
a  moment  after,  what  will  you  do  with  your  liberty 
to-day  ?  Ye  remember  that  ye  enjoy  it  still.  Oh  ! 
no,  no,  answered  both'  eagerly.  And  why,  my  little 
friends  ?  You  said,  the  other  day,  that  it  was  so  dis- 
agreeable to  be  subject  to  the  direction  of  others, 
We  have  been  well  punished  for  our  folly,  replied 
Camillus.  And  shall  take  warning  for  a  long  time, 
added  Julia. 

Mr.  Orpin.  Ye  will  not  be  your  own  masters  then, 
any  longer  ? 

Cam.  No,  no,  papa :  we  would  rather  be  told  by 
you  what  to  do. 

Julia.  It  will  be  much  better  for  us  both. 

Mr.  Orpin.  Think  well  of  what  you  say  ;  for,  if  I 
resume  my  authority,  I  inform  you  before-hand,  that 
my  very  first  orders  will  be  disagreeable  to  you. 

Cam.  No  matter,  papa  ;  we  are  ready  to  do  what- 
ever you  shall  think  proper. 

Mr.  Orpin.  Well,  I  have  here  a  yellow  powder, 
called  rhubarb.  It  has  an  unpleasing  taste,  but  is  ex- 
cellent for  those  who  have  hurt  their  stomachs  by 
Z  2 


282  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

excess.  Since  you  consent  to  follow  my  orders,  I 
command  you  instantly  to  take  this  powder.  Let  me 
see  you  obey  ! 

Cam.  Oh  !  yes,  yes,  papa. 

Julia.  I  would  take  it,  though  it  were  as  bitter  as 
soot. 

Mr.  Orpin  gave  them  the  medicine,  and  the  chil- 
dren, without  making,  as  formerly,  any  grimaces, 
endeavoured  each  to  excel  the  other  in  taking  it  with 
a  cheerful  countenance.  This  remedy  happily  had 
its  effect,  and  they  both  recovered  very  soon.  After 
that,  whenever  their  parents  would  terrify  them 
with  threats  of  punishment,  they  would  say,  We  shall 
let  you  be  your  own  masters  !  and  the  children  felt 
more  terror  from  this  threat,  than  many  others  to 
whom  one  should  say,  1  will  put  you  in  prison  ! 

Childrens^  Friend, 


TO    THE   MEMORY    OF    THE    LATE    JOSEPH    BROWNE,    QF 
LOTHERSDALE, 

One  of  the  people  called  Quakers,  who  had  suffered  a  long 
confinement  in  the  Castle  of  York,  and  loss  of  all  his 
worldly  property,  for  conscience*  sake. 

44  Spirit,  leave  thine  house  of  clay  ; 
Lingering  dust,  resign  thy  breath  ! 
Spirit,  cast  thy  chains  away  ; 
Dust,  be  thou  dissolv'd  in  death  1" 


Thus  the  Guardian  Angel  spoke 
As  he  watch'd  tby  dying  bed  ; 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  28^ 

As  the  bonds  of  life  he  broke, 
And  the  ransom' d  captive  fled. 

u  Prisoner,  long  detain'd  below  ; 
Prisoner,  now  with  freedom  blest ; 
Welcome  from  a  world  of  wo, 
Welcome  to  a  land  of  rest  !" 

Thus  thy  Guardian  Angel  sang, 
As  he  bore  tby  soul  on  high  ; 
While  with  Hallelujahs  rang 
All  the  region  of  the  sky. 

■ Ye  that  mourn  a  Fathers  loss, 

Ye  that  weep  a  Friend  no  more  ; 

Call  to  mind  a  Christian  cross, 

Which  your  Friend,  your  Father  bore. 

Grief  and  penury  and  pain 

Still  attended  on  his  way, 

And  Oppression's  scourge  and  chain, 

More  unmerciful  than  they. 

Yet  while  travelling  in  distress, 
('Twas  the  eldest  curse  of  sin) 
Through  the  world's  waste  wilderness. 
He  had  Paradise  within. 

And  along  that  vale  of  tears, 
Which  his  humble  footsteps  trod, 
Still  a  shining  path  appears, 
Where  the  mourner  walk'd  with  God. 


284  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR. 

Till  his  Master,  from  above, 
When  the  promisM  hour  was  come,. 
Sent  the  chariot  of  his  love 
To  convey  the  Wanderer  home. 

Saw  ye  not  the  wheels  of  fire, 
And  the  steeds  that  cleft  the  wind  ? 
Saw  ye  not  his  soul  aspire, 
When  his  mantle  dropp'd  behind  ? 

Ye  that  caught  it  as  it  fell, 

Bind  that  mantle  round  your  breast  j 

So  in  you  his  meekness  dwell, 

So  on  you  his  spirit  rest ! 

Yet,  rejoicing  in  his  lot, 
Still  shall  memory  love  to  weep 
O'er  the  venerable  spot, 
Where  his  dear  cold  relics  sleep. 

Grave  !  the  guardian  of  his  dust, 
Grave  !  the  treasury  of  the  skies, 
Every  atom  of  thy  trust 
Rests  in  hope  again  to  rise. 

Hark  ! — the  judgment  trumpet  calls, 
14  Soul,  rebuild  thine  house  of  clay  \ 
Immortality  thy  walls, 
And  eternity  thy  day  !" 


Montgomery.  , 


# 


m 


"HE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR,  285 

THE    SNOW    DROP, 

1.  Winter!  retire, 
Thy  reign  is  past ; 
Hoary  Sire  ! 

Yield  the  sceptre  of  thy  sway, 

Sound  thy  trumpet  in  the  blast, 

And  call  thy  storms  away. 

Winter !  retire, 

Wherefore  do  thy  wheels  delay  ? 

Mount  the  chariot  of  thine  ire, 

And  quit  the  realms  of  day  ; 

On  thy  state 

Whirlwinds  wait ; 

And  bloodshot  meteors  lend  thee  light : 

Hence  to  dreary  arctic  regions, 

Summon  thy  terrific  legions ; 

Hence  to  caves  of  northern  night 

Speed  thy  flight. 

2.  From  halcyon  seas 
And  purer  skies, 

O  southern  breeze  ! 

Awake,  arise  : 

Breath  of  heaven  !  benignly  blow, 

Melt  the  snow; 

Breath  of  heaven  !  unchain  the  floods. 

Warm  the  woods, 

And  make  the  mountains  flow. 

3.  Auspicious  to  the  Muse's  prayer, 
The  freshening  gale 

fSfcbalms  the  vale, 


286  THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR, 

And  breathes  enchantment  through  the  air: 

On  its  wing 

Floats  the  Spring, 

With  glowing  eye,  and  golden  hair  ; 

Dark  before  her  Angel  form 

She  drives  the  Dasinon  of  the  storm, 

Like  Gladness  chasing  Care. 

Winter's  gloomy  night  withdrawn, 

Lo  I  the  young  romantic  Hours 

Search  the  hill,  the  dale,  the  lawn, 

To  behold  the  Snow  Drop  white 

Start  to  light, 

And  shine  in  Flora's  deoert  bowers. 

Beneath  the  vernal  dawn, 

The  Morning  Star  of  Flowers  ! 

4.  O  welcome  to  our  Isle, 
Thou  Messenger  of  Peace  ! 
At  whose  bewitching  smile 
The  embattled  tempests  cease  ; 
Emblem  of  Innocence  and  Truth  \ 
Firstborn  of  Nature's  womb, 
When  strong  in  renovated  youth. 
She  bursts  from  Winter's  tomb  ! 
Thy  Parent's  eye  hath  shed 
A  precious  dew  drop  on  thine  head. 
Frail  as  a  Mother's  tear 
Upon  her  infant's  face, 
When  ardent  hope  to  tender  fear, 
And  anxious  love,  gives  place. 
But  lo  !  the  dew  drop  falls  away, 
The  sun  salute?  thee  with  a  ray, 
Warm  as  a  Mother's  kiss 


THE    CHRISTIAN    ORATOR.  287 

Upon  her  Infant's  cheek, 

When  the  heart  bounds  with  bliss, 

And  joy  that  cannot  speak  I  * 

....When  I  meet  thee  by  the  way, 

Like  a  pretty,  sportive  child, 

On  the  winter  wasted  wild, 

With  thy  darling  breeze  at  play, 

Opening  to  the  radiant  sky 

All  the  sweetness  of  thine  eye  ; 

Or  bright  with  sunbeams,  fresh  with  showers, 

O  thou  Fairy  Queen  of  flowers  ! 

Watch  thee  o'er  the  plain  advance 

At  the  head  of  Flora's  dance  ; 

Simple  Snow  Drop  1  then  in  thee 

All  thy  sister  train  I  see  : 

Every  brilliant  bud  that  blows, 

From  the  bluebell  to  the  rose ; 

All  the  beauties  that  appear 

On  the  bosom  of  the  Year ; 

All  that  wreathe  the  locks  of  Spring, 

Summer's  ardent  breath  perfume, 

Or  on  the  lap  of  Autumn  bloom, 

— All  to  thee  their  tribute  bring, 

Exhale  their  incense  at  thy  shrine, 

— Their  hues,  their  odours,  all  are  thine  2 

For  while  thy  humble  form  I  view, 

The  Muse's  keen  prophetic  sight 

Brings  fair  Futurity  to  light, 

And  Fancy's  magick  makes  the  vision  true , 

5.  There  is  a  Winter  in  my  soul, 
The  Winter  of  despair ; 


288  THE     CHRISTIAN     ORATOR. 

O  when  shall  Spring  its  rage  control  ? 

When  shall  the  Snow  Drop  blossom  there  ? 

Cold  gleams  of  comfort  sometimes  dart 

A  dawn  of  glory  on  my  heart, 

But  quickly  pass  away  : 

Thu^  Northern  Lights  the  gloom  adorn, 

And  give  the  promise  of  a  morn, 

That  never  turns  to  day  ! 

— But  hark  !  methinks  I  hear 

A  small  still  whisper  in  mine  ear ; 

"  Rash  Youth  !  repent, 

Afflictions  from  above, 

Are  Angels  sent 

On  embassies  of  love, 

A  fiery  Legion  at  thy  birth 

Of  chastening  Woes  were  given, 

To  pluck  thy  flowers  of  Hope  from  earth, 

And  plant  them  high 

O'er  yonder  9ky, 

Transformed  to  stars.. ..and  fixM  in  heaven." 

Montgomery 


THE   EMB. 


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